THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 
SAMUEL  SAWBONES  .'M.D 
ON  THE  KLONDYKE 


BY 

HIS  NEXT  BEST   FRIEND 


University  of  California  •  Berkeley 


THE 


DECLINE  AND  FALL 


OF 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D., 


ON  THE  KLONDIKE. 


BY 

HIS  NEXT  BEST  FRIEND. 


FULLY  ILLUSTRATED. 


THE  NEELY  COMPANY, 

PUBLISHERS, 
NEW  YORK.  CHICAGO.  LONDON. 


Copyright,  1900, 

by 

ARTHUR  CHESHIRE  NEELY 

in 

the 

United  States 

and 
Great  Britain. 


All  Rights  Reserved. 


PREFACE. 


WHO  ever  reads  a  preface?  Every  one  who  wants  to 
read  intelligently  and  with  profit. 

Let  the  "gentle  reader"  attend,  then. 

The  romance  of  this  book  may  not  merit  criticism.  The 
abrupt  sentiments  and  lectures  of  Dr.  Sawbones  may  not 
meet  with  the  approval  of  the  public.  Nevertheless,  they 
are  the  firm  convictions  of  the  author.  And  if  the  public 
does  not  like  them,  it  has  its  refuge :  let  it  throw  down  the 
pages  and  pass  on. 

Concerning  the  El  Dorado  of  the  far  Northwest,  the  au 
thor  knows  whereof  he  affirms.  He  has  paid  his  price  for 
the  information. 

He  is  aware  the  Klondike  (aboriginally  "Trondik")  is  a 
threadbare  subject  to-day,  but  the  early  history  has  been 
told  under  circumstances  and  pressures  that  made  it  quite 
imperfect.  Now  we  can  revise  it — dust  it  up  and  reclothe 
it — so  as  to  make  a  nice  new  picture,  which  quite  likely 
will  please  you.  He  is  not  writing  of  the  Klondike  of  to 
day;  most  items  are  of  the  season  of  1897-98,  the  famine 
winter. 

The  comments  upon  Canadian  justice  on  the  Klondike 
are  mildly  drawn.  If  you  are  of  contrary  opinion  after 
reading  this  book,  interview  the  author  personally  and 
he  will  convince  you  there  has  been  no  abuse. 

It  has  been  suggested  that  because  of  the  similarity  in 
the  situations  of  the  Canadians  on  the  Klondike  and  the 
Boers  in  South  Africa,  our  sympathies  ought  to  go  with  the 
Boers.  On  the  contrary,  for  the  same  reasons  we  con- 


iv  PREFACE. 

demn  the  Boers.  However,  there  is  this  distinction:  while 
the  Klondike  was  pioneered  and  developed  by  Americans, 
who  then  were  kicked  out,  the  Boers  themselves  had  pio 
neered  and  developed  their  own  country  and  should  be  al 
lowed  some  license  in  making  their  own  laws. 

The  author,  moreover,  wishes  here  to  announce  a  broad 
distinction  between  the  Canadian  and  its  mother  country 
or  English  Government.  The  Klondike  has  purely  a 
Canadian  rule,  which  the  mother  country  is  not  responsible 
for.  The  laws  themselves  are  not  so  much  the  matter  of 
complaint  as  is  the  administration  of  them,  which  is  so 
corrupt  that  Englishmen  and  Scotchmen  join  hands  with 
the  Americans  in  disgust  and  revolt. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

A  Fair  Prisoner 7 

Samuel  Sawbones,  Esq.,  M.D 13 

Early  Alaska  Diggings 23 

Fort  Get  There 36 

The  Lower  Yukon  Country 41 

On  to  Dawson , 46 

Circle  City 48 

Dawson  on  the  Klondike 51 

At  Home  on  the  Klondike 128 

A  Mining  Tragedy 131 

Items 136 

Canadian  Boers 167 

Samuel  Sawbones — His  Lecture 174 

The  Fall  of  Samuel  Sawbones,  Esq.,  M.D 192 


THE 

DECLINE  AND  FALL 

OF 

SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.D. 
ON  THE  KLONDIKE. 


A  FAIR  PRISONER. 

THE  wildest  of  the  wild  West  territory  has,  as  has  the 
most  Puritan  State,  regularly  appointed  court  jurisdic 
tions.  In  an  embryo  city  thereof  the  district  court  is 
convened;  the  judicial  machinery  has  in  charge  a  fair  girl 
prisoner,  while  a  curious  populace  attends  to  witness.  Or 
dinarily  this  camp  did  not  honor  the  court  proceedings 
with  its  presence.  The  overhanging  spurs  and  peaks  of 
the  great  Eockies  are  more  important,  more  interesting, 
for  in  them  are  the  gods  of  these  people — gold  and  silver ; 
and  to  them  are  they  devoted,  and  they  believe  more  in  the 
justice  dealt  them  by  their  magic  3 — 7 — 77  .than  in  that 
dispensed  by  the  Pilgrim  courts.  But  this  prisoner  being 
a  girl,  the  gallantry  of  the  vigilants  refused  them  jurisdic 
tion  over  her.  Moreover,  the  charge  was  incendiarism,  a 
crime  from  which  many  had  suffered. 

The  history  of  the  prisoner  is  this :  She  is  the  sole  one 
of  a  numerous  family.  The  greatest  monster,  among  dis- 


8  TEE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

ease — the  chiefest  scourge  among  mankind — had  carried 
away  father  and  mother;  one  by  one  brothers  and  sisters 
approached  a  given  age  and  disappeared  in  accordance 
with  strict  orthodox  heredity.  Herself  had  drunk  spruce 
teas  and  slept  upon  pine-bough  beds  of  the  north  coun 
tries  and  had  bathed  in  the  fumes  of  the  tar  vats  of  the 
Carolinas  and  possibly  with  benefit.  She  had  listened  to 
the  appeals  of  algerenes  on  the  southern  coast  of  California 
and  there  endured  quarantine,  exile,  as  instituted  against 
"one-lungers"  (so  facetiously  termed)  by  their  hosts.  She 
may  have  wished  herself  dead,  only  wishing  does  not  bring 
death  more  readily  than  it  brings  wealth.  However,  our 
prisoner  had  wished  herself  in  the  Eocky  Mountains,  for 
in  crossing  that  range  she  had  experienced  charms  that 
held  her  aloof  from  physical  ills  and  mental  strains.  She 
felt  herself  nearer  heaven  than  her  dreams  ever  approached. 
So  it  came  that  she  inhabited  this  camp,  nor  was  it  a  mis 
take  in  her.  The  lightness  of  the  air  at  once  put  her  lungs 
to  extra  duty — extra  expansion  to  insure  a  full  oxygen 
supply.  Development,  enlargement,  follow  as  does  in 
creased  functions.  The  excessive  dryness  of  the  air  we 
breathe,  by  its  rapid  power  of  absorbing  moisture,  keeps 
diseased  lungs  free  of  obstructions,  free  to  heal. 

"Fat  and  fair"  was  the  verdict  in  favor  of  this  girl's 
migrating  to  the  Rockies.  The  universal  one-story  mock 
front  building  of  our  early  mining  towns  prevailed  here, 
;uid  only  one  building  of  the  dignity  of  two  stories  lined 
the  main  street  of  the  place.  In  this  our  subject  had  lately 
made  her  home.  The  second  story  was  somewhat  an  aris 
tocratic  perch,  yet  she  had  no  envious  neighbors  to  make 
her  life  spicy. 

Summer-time  had  come  and  quiet  reigned  at  midday; 
shade  and  leisure  were  sought  rather  than  trade  and  ex 
citement.  The  prisoner  now  in  the  dock  then  sat  in  her 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  9 

palace  gazing  out  upon  the  waste — the  drear  blank  roofs 
stretching  into  distance ;  the  so-called  zephyrs  of  these  parts 
swept  down  off  the  mountains,  fanned  her  drooping  lashes, 
and  bronzed  her  mellow  cheeks.  Suddenly  a  cry  of  "Fire" 
startled  the  denizens  of  the  camp,  but  it  startled  not  this 
maid,  though  the  smoke  and  blaze  raged  upon  the  roof  di-  , 
rectly  underneath  her  gaze,  and  she  must  have  perished 
only  that  a  pair  of  strong  arms  bore  her  down  and  away; 
and  the  winds  scattered  the  brands,  the  brands  fired  more 
and  more  of  the  town  until  little  was  left  of  it. 

Then  the  populace  was  as  raging  as  the  fire.  No  little 
cloud  of  suspicion  hung  over  this  girl  prisoner,  but  a  dark 
hurricane  of  conviction  swept  down  upon  her.  No  one  was 
to  dispute  the  origin  of  the  fire.  The  roof  underneath  her 
gaze  was  the  starting-point,  and  no  fire  for  days  had  been 
kindled  within  the  building  upon  which  it  started  nor  in 
the  adjoining  neighboring  ones.  There  was  no  way  to  ac 
count  for  it  save  coming  from  human  hands.  The  girl's 
own  confession  tended  to  conviction.  "I  was  sitting  in  my, 
window  in  a  deep  reverie  which  carried  me  back  to  the  past 
and  the  lost ;  then  from  the  roof  underneath  leaped  a  daz 
zling  light;  then  chaotic  shadows  reveled  as  it  were  be 
fore  my  eyes.  I  was  chained  with  intense,  unutterable 
agony — was  riveted  helpless  to  the  spot,  while  the  fury  and 
the  furnace  heat,  the  choking  fumes  and  damning  odors  of 
unearthly  things  overcame  me." 

This  camp  could  not  comprehend  the  spirituelle  of  the 
unusual  organization  in  their  midst.  The  trance  she  was 
thrown  into  by  the  glare  and  the  roaring  of  the  fire  raging 
underneath  was  quite  unintelligible  to  them.  She  ap 
peared  to  them  only  a  parcel  of  deviltry.  Well  that  the 
victim  was  a  woman,  of  the  vigilants  would  have  grown 
a  new  crop  upon  the  hangman's  tree  ere  morning. 

Now,  we  turn  to  the  court— the  trial.    The  whole  legal 


10  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

array  at  this  sitting  is  the  judge  and  the  prosecuting  at 
torney.  The  few  friends  of  the  defendant  thought  it  use 
less  to  procure  her  counsel;  there  appeared  to  be  no  de 
fense. 

There  happened  to  be  in  the  camp  a  medical  practi 
tioner  from  one  of  the  few  colleges  which  require  a  re 
spectable  preliminary  education  to  be  followed  by  a  long 
and  severe  course  of  medical  study.  In  this  we  find  neces 
sarily  ambition,  honor,  dignity, — attendants  upon  a  thor 
ough  education  in  any  calling.  This  doctor  had  had  the 
prisoner  as  a  patient  once  and  he  knew  her  composition. 
He  was  capable  of  looking  down  through  her  eyes  into  her 
heart  and  reading  what  was  there.  He  could  comprehend 
the  dreamy,  impressionable  nature  which  would  account  for 
her  visionary  tale,  and  he  could  account  for  the  fire,  yet 
not  prove  it.  Doctors  need  be  thinking,  reasoning  creators, 
but  work  in  quiet.  Now  and  then  you  find  one  to  brave  the 
working  force  of  the  District  Court,  but  in  such  case  weigh 
well  his  bravado  against  his  profound  conceit ;  for  how  can 
the  quiet,  untutored  mind  buffet  with  the  law  which  usu 
ally  respects  itself  more  than  all  else — justice,  humanity, 
religion,  virtue?  The  charge  to  the  jury  was  brief  and 
fatal.  A  prosecuting  attorney  with  learning,  conceit,  and 
ambition  never  sees  a  heart  nor  a  soul  nor  a  virtue  in  his 
prisoner. 

By  exclusion  this  prisoner  must  be  the  author  of  this 
fire.  No  other  resident  was  near,  no  flying  sparks  from 
passing  engines,  no  forest  fire  communications,  no  neigh 
boring  chimney  in  use,  no  storage-room  from  whence  could 
spring  spontaneous  combustion,  no  nests  for  rats  or  mice 
to  ignite  stray  matches,  no  friction  of  timbers,  no  fire 
bugs  abroad ;  only  the  proprietor  with  his  handful  of  loafers 
in  the  store  underneath,  and  this  prisoner  overhead  occu 
pying  the  only  possible  communication  with  the  flames 


I 


THE    FAIR    PRISONER. 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  11 

and  witnessing  them  with  apparent  delight  and  fierce  in 
terest.  The  wise  twelve  have  no  alternate  from  the  ver 
dict— "Guilty  I" 

In  the  closing  scene  of  this  trial  was  observed  a  man 
with  a  basket.  Nothing  was  observed,  for  he  simply 
walked  up  the  south  aisle  of  the  court-room  and  careless- 
like  placed  the  basket  upon  the  window-sill.  The  doctor 
at  the  same  time  strolled  from  out  the  throng  and  as  quietly 
adjusted  the  basket  in  the  full  glare  of  the  sun. 

In  these  rocky  regions  the  sun  is  expected  to  shine  every 
day.  When  a  picnic  is  announced  it  goes.  When  a  doc 
tor  orders  his  patient  sunshine  and  exercise  he  expects 
to  meet  him  or  her  out  in  the  street  every  one  of  the 
three  hundred  and  sixty-five  days  of  the  year.  Well,  the 
doctor  further  arranged  some  contents  of  the  basket,  then 
drifted  toward  the  prisoner's  dock.  A  brief  spell.  The 
jury  is  polled,  the  Court  is  settling  down  to  the  neces 
sity  of  a  sentence,  when  suddenly  there  is  a  startling  re 
port  and  a  series  of  explosions,  a  riotous  smoke  and  flame, 
and  a  tumultuous  rushing  and  tumbling  for  doors  and 
windows.  In  the  throng  amid  the  shrieks,  the  uproar, 
the  frenzy  are  the  Court,  his  officers,  the  jury,  the  multi 
tude.  When  quiet  was  restored  the  culprit  was  not  in 
sight.  We  may  guess  how  she  had  been  spirited  away, 
whose  strong  arms  rescued  her  from  the  strong  arms  of 
the  law. 

The  next  edition  of  the  News  contains  the  following 
letter  from  Dr.  Samuel  Sawbones:  "The  tragic  finale  of 
the  criminal  trial  yesterday  was  simply  a  sentence  where 
it  belongs — a  confusion  of  law-givers  who  unscrupulously 
presumed  upon  justice  without  knowing  where  it  should 
rest.  The  basket  in  the  window  contained  only  a  lot  of 
combustible  material  of  loud  report,  of  big  smoke,  and 
illusive  blaze.  The  explosion  was  caused  by  a  piece  of 


12  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

glass,  the  form  of  convex  lens  or  sun  glass,  which  we  all 
know  focuses  the  sun's  rays  so  that  they  may  create 
many  degrees  of  heat  and  produce  combustion  readily  of 
all  inflammable  substances.  In  this  case  I  had  only  the 
bottom  of  a  tumbler  which  happened  to  be  thus  convex, 
or  sun-glass  shaped.  I  had  it  placed  in  position  to  catch 
the  sun's  rays  in  the  window  and  only  in  a  few  minutes 
did  it  set  on  fire  the  contents.  Now,  this  experiment 
was  not  to  stampede  the  Court  and  rescue  the  prisoner,  but 
to  prove  the  prisoner's  innocence.  It  was  an  exact  coun 
terpart  of  the  fire  on  the  roof  which  proved  so  disastrous. 
Previous  tenants  of  her  room  overhead  the  fire  had  cast 
upon  the  roof  perhaps  broken  glasses  and  bottles.  When 
it  happened  that  the  sun  had  shifted  into  position  or 
accident  had  shifted  the  glass  into  position  for  creating 
the  requisite  focus,  then  did  the  concentrated  rays  burn 
into  the  roof  and  start  the  blaze. 

"The  Court  should  know  as  well  as  I  that  this  girl 
prisoner  could  not  be  the  author  of  the  fire.  The  vir 
tues  should  not  be  so  nearly  extinguished  in  men  by 
their  every-day  calling  as  to  make  them  incapable  of 
divining  graces  in  a  girl  whose  soul  shines  out  of  her 
eyes  and  from  whose  heart  purity  springs  as  a  flame. 

"I  am  afraid  the  shock  of  the  late  unpleasantness 
will  so  have  shocked  my  poor  patient's  nerves  as  to  make 
it  imperative  for  me  to  abide  round  about  her — therefore 
excuse  my  sojourning  further  among  you." 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.D .  13 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  ESQ.,  M.  D. 

SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  ESQ.,  M.D.,  was  born  in  one  of  the 
Dutch  counties  of  Pennsylvania.  He  was  born  of  not  poor 
yet  of  respectable  parents  many  years  ago,  even  before  the 
War  of  the  Kebellion.  He  -was  raised  in  that  atmosphere 
which  prevailed  a  century,  then  dispersed,  leaving  the  old 
Keystone  State  nothing  more  than  a  common  heritage, 
leaving  it  without  a  power  or  influence;  and  indeed  that 
she  is  so  left  is  good,  judging  from  its  present  corruption 
and  what  might  occur  were  it  as  of  old — "As  Pennsylvania 
goes,  so  goes  the  Union."  The  philosophy  of  old  Ben 
Franklin  was  the  dynamo  of  that  prosperous,  healthy  cur 
rent  which  made  the  old  State  once  reign.  Poor  Richard's 
Almanac  is  out  of  print  and  alas !  for  the  politics  at  least 
of  the  old  Keystone  State. 

But  Samuel  Sawbones  received  the  full  current  of  Poor 
Richard's  sayings  and  can  boast  that  he  was  brought  up 
in  the  way  he  should  go.  "Honesty  is  the  best  policy" — 
that  went  without  saying  in  his  time.  "Early  to  bed  and 
early  to  rise" — he  did  not  need  the  curfew  to  ring;  the 
wealth  and  the  wisdom  of  the  day  were  too  evident.  "He 
that  by  the  plow  would  thrive,  himself  must  either  hold 
or  drive,"  was  scrupulously  his  guide  from  the  earliest  day 
that  he  drove  the  cows  to  pasture  up  to  the  present. 

Samuel  grew  and  gathered  a  little  wisdom  here,  there,  and 
at  various  institutions  of  learning,  until  in  time  he  hied  away 
to  the  university  of  the  State,  where  he  was  puffed  up  full 
of  medical  lore  and  burdened  with  a  great  green  box  where 
in  was  delegated  him  to  kill,  to  cure,  as  best  fitted  his  skill. 


14  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

He  left,  alas!  not  with  arras  full  of  bouquets  from  his 
graduating  platform  nor  with  a  great  big  bright  star  pinned 
to  the  way-off  future ;  for  two  of  the  shining  lights  of  the 
great  institution  had  said:  "Let  your  walk  and  conversa 
tion  be  such  that  all  cardiac  impulses  remain  undisturbed, 
that  no  nervous  sensations  arise  to  unbalance  its  equilib 
rium  !"  Oh !  oh !  my  poor  boy !  That  means  you  have 
some  very  serious  heart  disease.  In  accordance  therewith 
Dr.  Sawbones  paraded  his  new  silk  graduating  hat  around 
the  square  and  no  further  than  in  which  lived  his  father. 
He  gave  up  eating  his  mother's  doughnuts  and  took  to 
baby  foods.  And  he  broke  off  with  his  best  girl  to  avoid 
the  excitements  that  must  necessarily  occur  with  a  sweet 
heart.  After  moping  a  time  the  good  in  the  man  began 
to  assert  itself.  "Die  or  not,  it  is  no  reason  why  in  the 
interim  I  should  not  be  dispensing  the  profound  knowl 
edge  within  me — why  others  should  be  dying  through 
want  of  the  saving  influence  of  my  vast  store  of  medical 
resources."  Then  he  set  himself  to  work  in  a  little  hamlet 
to  cure  the  ills  therein,  but  his  success  was  so  unpropor- 
tionate  to  his  conceit  that  he  wished  the  prognostications 
of  the  wise  professors  might  be  hurriedly  verified.  He 
even  joined  the  baseball  club  and  played  third  base  for 
them.  This  may  have  been  for  one  or  two  reasons.  He 
began  to  fear  for  the  prognostical  virtues  of  his  old  in 
structors,  of  whom  he  entertained  the  greatest  admiration, 
in  whom  he  had  undying  faith.  Then  how  near  fame  it 
would  be  to  be  heralded  "Out  on  the  third;"  "the  third 
baseman,  Dr.  Samuel  Sawbones,  of  the  Schloppindekop- 
plehoopinturtles,  fell  at  his  post,"  etc.  Is  it  strange  to 
Bay  Samuel  grew  strong  at  baseball,  fattened  at  a  starving 
practice?  Indeed,  if  the  truth  must  be  told  at  the  expense 
of  the  dear  old  Alma  Mater,  the  heart  disease  disappeared 
to  the  extent  of  leaving  Dr.  Sawbones  not  a  vestige  of 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES.  M.  D.  15 

excuse  for  not  being  as  other  men.  Yet  his  start  in  life 
was  blighted.  However,  full  of  the  electrical  current 
generated  by  Franklin,  full  of  ambition  and  energy,  he  fell 
to  with  heart  and  hand  to  make  that  light  which  he  con 
ceited  was  within  him  so  shine  that  all  the  world  would 
witness. 

Though  it  would  appear  that  there  must  be  some  Dutch 
blood  in  Samuel  Sawbones,  it  is  not  quite  proven.  Ho 
once  pressed  his  uncle  for  data,  hoping  to  prove  he  might 
be  a  son  of  a  descendant  of  some  other  descendant  of  the 
Revolutionary  War.  "But,"  said  the  seer,  "you  know 
many  Hessians  came  over  to  fight  in  that  war,  not  for,  but 
against  us.  These  chiefly  deserted  and  took  up  their  abode 
in  Pennsylvania,  where  they  became  useful  and  thrifty 
citizens.  I  would  advise  you  to  not  push  inquiries  as  to 
pedigree.  You  might  strike  this  source." 

At  any  rate,  Sawbones  was  lacking  in  the  thrift  of  the 
Dutch  of  his  nativity,  and  while  they  were  building  im 
mense  three-story  bank  barns,  painted  red,  and  miles  upon 
miles  of  worm  fence,  he  was  souring  upon  the  scant  vege 
tables  they  traded  him  for  fees.  He  moved  to  the  Alle 
gheny  regions  and  there  tried  a  race  of  life  with  the  kill- 
deers,  but  he  found  them  carrying  knapsacks  over  the 
buckwheat  fields  he  was  traversing  with  saddlebags.  Then 
in  his  agony  he  said:  "Why  was  it  my  old  infirmity  did 
not  work  the  allotment  of  my  old  professors?  Their  suc 
cessors  say  high  altitude  kills  rapidly  the  victims  of  heart 
disease." 

So  it  occurred  that  Samuel  Sawbones,  M.D.,  flaunted 
hr:  shingle  in  one  of  the  high-altitude  towns  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains — so  high  that  if  the  world  happens 
again  to  be  drowned  by  a  flood  you  people  down  on  the 
coast  will  be  two  miles  under  water  before  it  wets  our 
feet. 


16  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

Still  more  strange  things  are  to  be  recorded — more 
strange,  however,  to  the  medical  profession  than  to  the 
laity.  The  high  altitude  did  not  kill  off  Samuel  nor 
did  it  make  his  heart  disease  worse.  Added  to  the  alti 
tude  was  a  great  deal  of  excitement  and  of  violence  by 
way  of  exercise  and  exposure.  When  the  doctor  found 
natural  causes  would  not  kill  him,  he  gave  up  hopes  of 
dying,  but  did  not  despair,  for  he  found  life  a  little  more 
worth  the  living.  When  he  got  hold  of  a  twenty-dollar 
piece  he  did  not  find  a  Pennsylvania  Dutchman  there  with 
his  thumb  on  the  eagle  pinching  to  make  it  squeal.  He 
kept  a  little  diary  when  he  learned  that  orthodox  lectures 
could  not  be  made  to  always  work  orthodox.  He  ob 
served  that  high  altitude  practically  has  no  ill  influ 
ence  over  heart  disease;  that  subjects  of  it  live  possibly 
longer  in  the  Rocky  Mountain  regions  than  elsewhere. 
He  can  recite  innumerable  cases  of  very  serious  heart  dis 
ease  who  are  as  well  as  they  were  twenty  years  previous. 
He  can  vouch  also  for  the  fact  that  hemorrhages,  from 
any  and  all  causes,  are  no  more  frequent  here,  and  he 
believes  them  less  dangerous,  but  of  course  the  book 
makers  will  say  he  is  a  great  liar.  Samuel  began  life 
anew  upon  his  advent  in  the  new  country.  He  climbed 
to  the  miners'  camps  upon  the  highest  spurs  and  peaks; 
lie  crossed  the  wildest  ranges  after  victims  to  wintry 
blizzards;  he  drove  during  the  fiercest  colds  and  storms. 
Were  it  not  that  it  might  influence  his  veracity  in  other 
more  serious  matters,  I  could  tell  of  his  having  a  night's 
v/andering  in  which  his  bottle  of  sulphuric  ether  froze  in 
his  pocket.  However,  we  will  not  press  you  to  believe 
ibis, 

Samuel  Sawbones  was  here  inclining  the  least  little 
bit  to  fame  and  fortune,  and  had  he  not  been  born  under 
the  auspices  of  a  very  mean  planet  he  no  doubt  would 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  17 

yet  be  a  leading  medical  light,  with  a  fortune  quite  large 
enough  to  buy  him  an  office  of  honor  and  responsibility 
in  the  gift  of  the  people.  But  his  composition,  or  maybe 
only  his  endowment  through  the  ruling  of  the  afore 
mentioned  mean  planet,  led  him  to  preach  the  virtues 
instead  of  attending  strictly  to  business,  as  were  his 
right-hand  and  his  left-hand  professional  brothers  doing. 
He  posted  about  him  his  old  Poor  Richard  maxims.  He 
went  so  far  as  to  pin  up  "Honesty  is  the  best  policy."  He 
put  over  the  transom  "Live  and  let  live."  Under  the 
graces  was  written:  "And  the  greatest  of  these  is  char 
ity."  One  day  in  the  exercise  of  charity  he  drove  his 
gig  over  such  fearfully  rough  country  and  at  such  a 
breakneck  speed  as  to  develop  that  sneaking  little  dis 
order  appendicitis.  Ever  after,  that  little  varmint  kept 
nosing  about  to  annoy  him — no  doubt  the  ruling  of  the 
mean  planet  under  which  he  was  born.  He  had  ob 
served  so  much  the  fallacies  of  the  wise  men  of  the  East 
that  here  again  he  resolved  to  profit  from  personal  ex 
perience.  Instead  of  nursing  himself,  wrapping  himself 
in  warm  flannels  and  crawling  through  the  world  on  easy 
coucL  bv  short  relays  and  avoiding  kicks  and  cuffs  of 
active  life,  he  said:  "I  will  do  the  other  thing." 

Capt.  John  J.  Healey  was  writing  glowing  descrip 
tions  of  the  Yukon  country;  not  of  the  Klondike,  for 
that  region  was  not  known,  but  of  the  country  in  general, 
its  prospects,  possibilities,  brilliant  future.  Captain 
Healey  pictured  all  the  gold  fields  at  present  looming  up 
before  us  -^d  never  faltered  in  his  assurance.  Circle 
City  with  its  Birch  Creek  mines  was  raging;  Forty  Mile 
was  panning  its  thousands;  and  these  were  only  pros 
pecting  camps.  "Well,  well,"  said  Samuel.  "Why 
should  I  not  go?  My  store  of  three-ply  flannels  brought 
from  Edinburgh  town  and  too  warm  for  this  country 


18  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

will  be  just  in  luck  up  in  the  Alaska  frosts."  Let  me 
suggest  that  Dr.  Sawbones  was  not  looking  altogether 
toward  the  cure  of  his  appendicitis  when  he  was  talking 
to  himself  about  Alaska.  He  had  just  pas.er!  through  the 
storm  written  out  in  the  first  chapter.  Now  here  we 
might  diverge  again  in  the  wrong  direction  if  not  ex 
ercising  due  caution,  for  was  it  a  fear  of  persecution  by 
an  outraged  foe — the  sadly  vanquished  legal  authorities — 
or  was  it  from  fear  of  a  hurt  through  the  subject,  the 
object,  of  all  that  trial  and  that  tribulation?  Samuel 
as  yet  has  not  confessed  any  interest  in  his  fair  patient 
other  than  professional.  The  girl  has  not  confessed  any 
interest  in  her  doctor  other  than  patient. 

And  how  did  it  happen?  Well,  I  don't  know.  Fool 
ish  things  break  out  like  fires — spontaneously.  Here  the 
girl  is  telling  Samuel  Sawbones  that  she  loves  him,  ac 
tually  loves  him,  always  did  admire  him  for  his  good 
ness  and  kindness,  but  now  adores  him  for  his — eh — his 
lovely  self!  And  Samuel,  the  big  booby  says:  "Oh, 
please  don't.  I  am  not  good  enough  for  such  a  lovely, 
dear,  good,  angelic,  sweet  girl  as  you."  Then  they  fell 
to  and  discussed  the  practical  side  of  the  comedy.  Dr. 
Sawbones  had  his  boxes  and  traps  labeled  for  "FoTt 
Yukon,  on  the  Yukon  River,  Alaska,  U.  S.  A.,  via  St. 
Michaels,  in  the  Behring  Sea."  The  girl  (we  have  not 
learned  her  name  yet)  is  hanging  out  in  one  of  the  larger 
cities  of  the  Eocky  Mountain  regions. 

"I  will  die,  doctor,  I  know  I  will,  when  you  leave  me. 
I  will  die  of  ennui." 

"Yes,  yes,  I  know  you  will,  my  goddess,  but  I  will  die 
if  I  remain.  My  appendix — oh,  no — I  should  remark 
my  field  of  usefulness  is  limited  here,  while  the  poor 
Eskimo  of  Alaska  is  crying  out  in  agony  of  his  many 
infirmities  which  I  can  cure !  Oh,  hang  it  all !  you  know 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  19 

there  is  gold  there,  and  it  is  'gold!'  'gold!'  ringing  in 
my  ears.  It  is  a  gold  wire  to  my  nose  that  is  pulling  me 
there.  Now  don't  you  see  the  devil  that  tears  me  away 
from  you?" 

"And  oh,  dear  doctor,  you  know  I  am  going  to  die  here, 
and  yet  you  tear  yourself  away.  Were  I  a  golden  calf 
you  would  stay  and  worship  me  I" 

"No,  no.  I  will  go  and  open  the  way;  then  you  must 
come.  You  remember  the  ice  palace  at  St.  Paul,  how 
snug  and  warm  and  cozy  it  would  be?  I  will  build  you 
an  ice  palace  on  the  banks  of  the  Yukon;  we  will  line 
it  with  the  furs  of  the  caribou,  of  the  wolf,  and  will 
cover  the  floors  with  the  robes  of  the  moose  and  the  skins 
of  the  polar  bears;  then  we  will  decorate  it  with  nuggets, 
and  how  happy  we  shall  be !" 

I  wonder  if  Samuel  did  not  tell  his  dearly  beloved 
that  he  would  make  a  cozy  corner  for  her  wherein  they 
could  do  their  wooing  while  the  aurora  borealis  danced 
before  their  eyes  and  vibrated  its  sympathy  through 
them?  And  did  he  tell  her  that  she  would  have  to  eat 
dried  salmon  and  that  she  would  have  to  draw  water, 
Eebecca-like,  from  a  great  deep  ice  well  in  the  Yukon, 
and  that  she  must  wear  mucklucks  and  waddle  like  the 
native  squaws?  Oh,  Samuel  Sawbones,  have  you  not  a 
lot  of  sins  of  omission  from  that  last  interview? 

"Still,  dear  doctor,  since  you  know  I  am  going  to  die 
ill  my  loneliness  can  you  not  devise  for  me  some  relief — 
something  to  do?" 

"Do  nothing,  do  nothing,  my  dear  child.  Like  our 
grandfathers'  and  our  great-grandfathers'  girls,  simply 
be  a  girl  as  were  they  and  await  the  dawn  of  your  own 
existence." 

"Do  not,  please,  pet  me  with  those  endearments  you 
play;  upon  the  young  girls  whom  you  saw  first  in  the 


20  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OS1 

world  and  dandled  upon  your  knee  up  to  the  present 

voung  ladyhood.  I  am  Miss  until  you  can 

ebulate  something  original  and  pleasing  as  well  as  af 
fectionate.  To  continue  my  plea,  do  I  impress  you  as 
one  who  might  sit  idle,  dumb,  for  long  months,  simply 
dreaming  of  the  man  in  the  moon — which  I  take  as  the 
same  thing  as  a  man  Vay  up  in  Alaska's  frozen  bounds? 
Provide  for  me  pastime,  if  only  the  work  of  typewrit 
ing/' 

"Ugh!     Oh,  no!     Not  that!" 

"Why  not  that?" 

"It  will  take  more  thaii  words — it  will  take  a  whole 
lecture  to  say  why  not." 

"Very  well;  give  us  the  lecture." 

"Possibly  it  will  be  good  for  you  to  get  the  whole 
lecture;  therefore  you  shall  have  it.  I  need  not  coin 
reasons  why  you  shall  not  engage  in  pursuits  orginally 
within  the  domain  of  man.  These  reasons  are  flagrant 
and  I  only  recall  them  to  you.  Please  look  at  man's  in 
terest  in  you.  You  are  not  abusing  poor  man  by  steal 
ing  away  from  him  his  daily  bread.  He  will  not  starve, 
nor  will  he  fail  to  provide  means  for  a  wife — if  he  wants 
one.  But  man  working  side  by  side  with  woman  loses 
his  ideality,  his  veneration,  his  gallantry  for  her.  He 
comes  to  view  her  a  fellow-being,  a  fellow-workman. 
She  returns  the  compliment,  naturally;  he  is  no  lord  and 
master,  she  says  to  herself.  Everything  grows  common 
between  them.  They  exchange  common  business  phrases, 
they  gossip  in  common,  and  talk  politics  in  the  common 
slang;  religion  is  discussed  until  a  common  belief  is 
reached;  domestic  relations  are  criticised  until  a  correct 
conclusion  is  arrived  at.  Like  plants  take  issue  and 
bearing  from  the  pollen  of  the  plants  surrounding,  so 
does  humanity  take  coloring  from  the  associates.  It  is 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  21 

not  possible  for  woman  to  work  and  associate  daily  with 
man  and  remain  untainted  by  his  free,  independent  moral 
obligations.  In  business  she  imbibes  his  spirit  of  barter 
and  gain;  in  politics  she  enters  into  the  corruption  of 
the  campaign  with  the  same  cheers;  in  religion  she 
gradually  accepts  his  infidelity,  his  easy  virtue,  his 
free-love  doctrine.  The  girl  thrown  with  man  through 
her  daily  life  helping  in  sharing  his  business,  will  in 
years  grow  much  the  same  religious,  moral,  social  views 
that  are  practiced  and  preached  by  him.  Some  monster 
woman  will  say,  'And  what  if  she  should?7  God  forbid! 
is  all  I  have  to  say.  Do  not  let  the  days  of  chivalry  pass 
by  your  dreams.  You  want  the  strong  arm  of  a  knight 
about  you,  and  it  is  the  more  dear  if  there  for  protec 
tion  than  if  for  mating.  It  is  very  silly  for  a  woman 
to  say  or  think  she  will  excommunicate  herself  from  mon 
ster  man.  But  we  all  know  man's  intercourse  with  man 
leads,  drags  to  a  break  in  every  one  of  the  command 
ments.  We  realize  that  all  offspring  must  receive  its 
endowment  for  the  keeping  of  the  Ten  Commandments 
from  a  non-corrupt  motherhood.  A  saint  and  a  devil 
may  rear  at  least  half  their  offspring  saints.  Above  all 
things,  there  is  no  need  that  you  grow  yourselves  man 
like.  Inventions  and  its  machinery  are  taking  the  bur 
dens  off  man's  shoulders  while  he  may  take  it  off  yours. 
He  can  best  prepare  the  eat  and  drink;  he  can  best  make 
your  coat  and  gowns.  He  needs  woman  simply  to  per 
petuate  the  race  and  supply  him  rest  after  the  weary 
toil.  Give  up  the  funny  talk  that  you  do  not  need  man. 
But  he  does  not  want  a  partnership  in  business." 

"Dear  doctor,   do  you  not  lead  'way  off  from  type 
writers  and  stenographers — lead  off  to  woman's  rights?" 

"No;  for  they  are  the  elementary  school  of  woman's 
rights;  professional  women  are    its    high    school; 


22  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  Off 

gruntled  married  women  are  the  alumni  of  the  institu 
tion." 

"Well,  I  know,  oh,  so  many  nice  girls  who  are  engaged 
in  typewriting  that  I  would  not  object  being  classed  with 
them." 

"Yes,  I  know  a  hundred  good  girls  thus  engaged,  but 
I  know  a  dozen  bad  ones,  and  is  not  that  a  fearful  per 
cent,  for  innocent  creatures  to  stray  from  ways  of  woman 
hood? 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.D.  23 


EARLY  ALASKA  DIGGINGS. 

PIONEERS  to  the  lower  Yukon,  Alaska,  were  not  wont 
to  go  via  the  passes  from  the  present  Dyea  and  Skagway 
and  down  through  the  lakes.  They  were  in  part  afraid 
of  the  treacherous  navigation  by  boat,  and  lacked  capac 
ity  by  dogs  and  sleds,  for  the  long  journey  more  than 
consumed  their  grub,  while  for  want  of  dried  fish  their 
dogs  often  starved,  and  for  want  of  the  dogs  themselves 
might  starve.  Dr.  Samuel  Sawbones,  bag  and  baggage, 
shipped  aboard  a  steamer  from  the  coast,  and  in  three 
weeks  was  in  the  mouth  of  the  Yukon  River  bound  up 
that  stream.  His  diary  of  the  trip  is  neither  funny  nor 
instructive.  He  found  the  natives  on  the  bank  of  that 
river  paying  penance  through  the  same  affections  poor 
white  folks  in  the  States  were  subjected  to.  Grippe  was 
shaking  them  out  of  their  moccasins  into  the  ice-bound 
silent  rest  just  the  same.  Of  course  he  scattered  his 
pills  and  pukes  from  the  charity  chest.  The  experience 
was  interesting  and  the  pay,  we  all  know,  is  to  come 
in  the  by  and  by!  As  he  arrived  in  the  pay  streak  or 
gold  belt  of  Alaska  he  had  his  hobnailed  boots  electro 
plated,  that  he  might  gather  up  nuggets  in  his  walks 
and  wanderings.  Of  course  he  daily  examined,  but  the 
amalgam  panned  out  nothing  for  a  long  season.  Circle 
City  was  swimming  around  like  a  flying  Jennie.  The 
gold  from  Birch  Creek  was  weighed  out  to  the  commer 
cial  companions,  to  the  saloon  keepers,  and  to  the  wenches 
as  the  dogs  packed  it  into  town;  then  it  flowed  through 
the  freaks  of  the  whirlpool  and  scarcely  ever  was  at  rest. 
Thus  the  thousands — one,  two,  ten,  twenty — from  each 


24  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

miner  gilded  this  city  to  a  glory  that  red  paint  would  need 
bow  down  before.  Birch  Creek  is  summer  diggings,  bar 
diggings,  and  miners  had  nothing  to  do  the  long  winter 
months  save  revel  and  pack  their  grub  sixty  miles  out  to 
camp  for  summer  work;  this  on  their  backs  or  with  dog 
teams,  depending  which  upon  the  miner's  temperament. 
If  a  cheerful  giver  in  his  temple  of  worship,  usually  he 
would  about  the  ending  of  winter  resolve  himself  into 
a  pack  mule  and  grub  his  cache  on  Birch  Creek.  Samuel 
fell  into  nothing — not  into  any  gold  mines  nor  yet  into 
the  fell  vortex  of  the  population.  "Signs  are  promising" 
was  all  he  could  write  to  the  girl  he  left  behind,  and  she, 
poor  dear,  could  only  boo-hoo!  over  her  dreary  wait  for 
the  cold,  cold  beyond. 

But  matters  grew  better  and  Samuel  wrote  his  dear 
such  letters  as  only  his  loving,  faithful  fingers  could 
pen.  It  seemed  from  these  that  the  frost  of  this  arctic 
zone  drove  all  the  warmth  of  his  being  from  the  surface 
to  his  heart,  and  he  poured  it  out  to  the  girl.  It  was 
foolish  wooing,  but  poor  Samuel  was  untutored.  He 
would  say: 

"GENTLE  MAIDEN:  The  gold  I  am  in  search  of  slowly 
fills  my  sack — dust,  much  of  it,  and  as  foul  here  as  in 
this  camp,  in  its  use  and  influence  as  the  foulest  of 
well-trodden  dust  of  your  streets;  yet  well  sprinkled  with 
nuggets,  which  suggest  a  loftier  sphere.  These  nuggets 
measure  in  size  and  magnificence  a  degree  which  in 
fluences  one  to  worship  them,  yet  not  one  of  the  great 
est  nor  all  together  approaches  thee,  my  own  sweetheart, 
in  glory,  brightness,  in  worthiness  of  worship,  and  I  bow 
down  before  them  only  second — after  praying  for  you." 

And  the  dear,  good  thing  would  only  answer  in  a  more 
distressed  humor: 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  25 

"Mr  OWN"  DEAR  DOCTOR:  Come  home  to  me  now.  I 
know  the  seventy  degrees  of  frost  will  not  freeze  you; 
I  know  the  dust  of  that  frozen  North  will  not  corrupt 
you;  but  oh,  my  dear  Samuel,  your  chief est  hope,  your 
earthly  pride  and  glory  may  elude  you,  may  be  dis 
missed  your  sphere  through  sheer  agonizing  over  your 
absence  and  loving  influence.  Take  pity  on  your  chief- 
est  deske  and  strive  to  hold  it  fast.  Temptations,  too, 
are  strong  about  me,  yet  they  only  give  me  power  while 
your  absence  robs  me  of  strength." 

And  no  cooing  in  their  wooing?  Nothing  like  other 
simpletons?  Oh,  yes,  but  that  we  leave  out.  Samuel 
would  try  to  excite  a  mite  of  jealousy  by  relating  little 
flirtations  with  the  non-festive  Eskimo  maid,  while  his 
little  maid  outside  hinted  from  time  to  time  of  little  sly 
glances  from  leisure  gentlemen  of  the  town.  Nothing 
serious  happened  until  one  day  Samuel  received  a  type 
written  letter.  It  was  pitiable  to  see  the  poor  beggar 
after  that.  A  love-letter  written  on  a  typewriter!  Yes, 
in  fact.  It  was  full  of  endearments.  It  was  a  hot  num 
ber  in  so  far  as  heat  and  fervor  were  usually  exchanged, 
but  written  on  the  typewriter !  Did  you  ever  receive  a 
letter  from  your  sweetheart  so  written  ?  No  !  Then  you 
cannot  know  how  much  a  blizzard  it  is  to  receive  a  love- 
letter  written  upon  a  typewriter.  You  may  contemplate 
the  position  without  my  further  discussing  the  horrors. 
Poor  Sawbones  barely  survived  the  shock,  but  as  the  win 
ter  season  had  closed  in,  leaving  him  till  the  next  spring 
without  exchange  of  letters,  he  was  by  that  time  so  far 
recovered  as  to  answer  uncomplainingly.  During  the 
winter  he  had  stored  up  many  passages  and  quotations 
of  love,  many  beautiful  thoughts  from  the  brains  of  other 
men — other  fanciful,  poetic  natures.  He  had  these  set 


26  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

in  order,  arranged  to  do  the  most  good  and  to  express 
in  highest  color  one  so  placed  as  to  be  capable  of  loving 
the  little  mouse  which  nightly  nosed  about  his  cabin  and 
stole  his  scant  cache  of  sugar — to  paint  such  one's  longings 
and  hopes.  In  addition  was  something  of  a  business 
resume.  Then  he  added  to  the  manuscript  a  little  story. 

One  Byrne,  a  humorist  of  his  own  town,  had  preceded 
him  to  the  north,  and  they  met  at  Forty  Mile.  Byrne 
was  successfully  mining  at  the  head  of  Forty  Mile  creek 
and  came  to  that  camp  for  supplies.  Byrne  told  him 
of  a  former  visit  from  the  camp  diggings  to  Forty  Mile 
camp.  He  proceeded  thus : 

"You  know,  several  years  back,  every  item  of  news 
was  mouth  to  mouth.  Only  a  few  brief  months  during 
the  summer  brought  letters  or  papers,  and  every  man 
was  expected  to  be  a  public  bulletin.  Well,  I  had  ob 
served  the  popularity  and  the  gracious  standing  the  news 
monger  held  in  camp  and  resolved  to  profit  by  it.  At 
Forty  Mile,  a  supply  camp  on  the  Yukon,  I  met  a  hun 
dred  old-timers — miners  here,  as  I  was,  for  a  supply.  Of 
course — 

"'Any  news,  Byrne?' 

"'No;  only  as  I  came  by  the  Forks  there  was  a  little 
furore.  They  had  had  a  fire  there  the  night  before. 
You  all  know  Belle  Fawkes?' 

"Yes,  they  all  knew  her,  as  she  had  been  in  this  coun 
try  four  years. 

"  'Well,  her  cabin  got  on  fire,  and  the  next  day  noth 
ing  only  a  mound  of  charcoal  and  a  little  heap  of  poor 
Belle's  bones  were  to  be  found.  And  old  Sykes,  fore 
most  in  the  rescue,  had  one  eye  scorched  out  and  is  crip 
pled  for  the  whole  mining  season.  We  ought  to  take 
up  a  collection  for  old  Sykes.' 

"Then  thejr  hung  about  my  neck  and  plied  me  with 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  27 

drinks  and  discussed  a  subscription  for  poor  Sykes. 
After  a  few  beers  the  camp  pried  further  into  my  in 
teresting  features  of  news-gathering,  and  I  was  compelled 
to  advance  my  popularity. 

"  'At  home,  too,  we  had  rather  an  unpleasantness. 
You  know,  up  there  we  have  some  of  the  old  Montana 
vigilantes.  Well,  they  imagined  they  would  die  an  un- 
glorious  death  unless  they  created  some  new  life  within 
themselves,  so  they  lassoed  poor  Sourkrout  Ben,  who  had 
in  reality  cleaned  up  some  of  the  caches  while  we  were 
at  work.  But  poor  Ben  is  shiftless  and  deserved  clem 
ency,  yet  the  vigilantes  would  not  extend  it.  They  hanged 
him,  and  I  have  in  my  knapsack  the  last  will  and  testa 
ment  to  send  to  his  deserted  family.' 

"Of  course  the  whole  evening  was  made  riotous,  and 
every  man  at  camp  extended  me  his  hospitality  for  the 
rest  of  my  stay.  Certainly  each  of  these  affairs  was  told 
in  detail  and  with  variations  so  as  to  make  a  short  story 
long.  Next  day  when  lack  of  excitement  afforded  op 
portunity  I  detailed  some  casualties  from  over  the  range. 

"After  this  woeful  detail  I  was  not  permitted  to  mush 
a  dog.  My  goods  were  loaded,  my  dogs  fed  on  the  fat 
of  the  camp,  and  a  perfect  ovation  was  given  me  until  I 
was  paraded  many  miles  out  on  the  trail  toward  home. 
Of  course  before  I  was  detected  a  great  liar,"  concluded 
Byrne,  "other  events  were  the  subject  of  gossip  and  I 
was  not  the  least  in  disgrace." 

In  the  spring-time,  early  in  June,  Samuel  Sawbones' 
epistles,  manuscript,  reports  were  on  the  trail,  rushing 
down  the  Yukon  for  the  outside.  And  early  in  July  the 
loving  missives,  gossiping  chatter,  and  personal  notes  of 
Miss  Nella  passed  the  above  in  the  Behring  Sea  on  their 
way.  I  will  not  pretend  to  note  the  reception  at  each  end. 
Dr.  Sawbones  had  intuitiveness,  latterly  called  mind-read- 


28  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OP 

ing,  by  which  he  accurately  figured  the  new  role  of  his 
inamorata.  She  still  was  dying  from  sheer  want  of  him, 
from  the  absence  of  his  love  and  affection  and  his  soft, 
sweet,  tender  care  and  his  delicate,  soothing  professional 
offices!  But  she  had  taken  to  stenography  and  typewrit 
ing  for  a  vocation.  She  had  a  position  in  a  mining  bro 
kers'  office  and  was — well,  rather  shocked  at  first;  yet  so 
shrewd,  ingenious,  interesting  were  the  mining  manipula 
tions  that  she  was  compelled  to  admire  the  brains,  the 
spirits  who  conceived  and  executed  the  deeds,  the  plots, 
the  schemes.  She  inclosed  the  following  duplicate  copy 
of  one  of  her  dictated  letters : 

"JOHN  DOE,  ESQ.,  Sourkrout  Gulch. 

"Dear  Sir:  Be  prepared  for  a  visit  from  some  Eastern 
capitalists  who  have  in  contemplation  the  purchase  of  the 
property  you  represent  for  us.  I  hereby  send  you  a  sack 
of  gold-dust,  which  you  will  please  shoot  into  or  other 
wise  incorporate  with  the  several  exposed  points  of  the 
ledge.  Do  this  carefully,  as  they  have  a  pretentious  ex 
pert  with  them,  and  the  price  of  the  mine  does  not  jus 
tify  our  interviewing  this  expert.  I  also  send  you  du 
plicate  ore  sacks  for  samples;  they  will  bring  the  corre 
sponding  sacks  with  them.  Fill  these  with  your  richest 
samples  and  have  them  ready  in  like  trim  to  those  they 
may  fill  for  themselves.  While  at  lunch  or  at  drinks  see 
that  your  most  expert  help  makes  an  exchange  of  these 
sacks.  Much  will  depend  upon  this  being  skillfully  done. 
I  need  not,  however,  advise  you  in  detail,  as  I  know  your 
capacity  for  this  work.  Eespectfully, 

"KlCHARD    KOE." 

Many  things  in  this  last  series  of  letters  pronounced 
this  girl  as  having  a  shade  of  the  "New  Woman."  She 


SAMUEL  SA  WBONES,  M.  D.  £9 

at  first  was  seriously  embarrassed  in  the  atmosphere  which 
surrounded  her,  was  dazed,  and  her  conscience  brought 
her  to  confession,  but  later  date  exhibited  the  daily  tinc 
ture  and  consequent  preservation  of  mind  in  all  the  duties 
imposed — frauds,  delusions,  villainies,  ambitions,  gam 
blings,  stealing,  concocted  and  distributed  through  the 
office.  No,  no.  Not  one  hair  upon  her  head  was  bent 
upon  any  other  than  womanly  virtues,  and  her  tastes  and 
instincts  rebelled  against  even  mining  slang;  yet  her 
heart  at  one  time  would  have  broken  to  have  been  wit 
ness  of  her  fellow-creatures  grasping,  stealing  one  from 
the  other.  But  as  the  sailor  boy  partakes  of  the  swagger 
of  all  other  sailors,  the  soldier  parades  in  all  the  state- 
liness  of  his  whole  battalion,  the  barber  assumes  the 
power  of  quiz  and  gossip  attained  by  no  other  trade,  thus 
must  our  heroine  grow  caste  from  the  unscrupulous  devils 
usually  engaged  as  "promoters'"  in  mining  operations. 
And  she  could  intersperse  her  love-letters  to  Samuel  with 
"interesting"  mining  ventures  and  have  no  thought  they 
might  crush  his  poor  heart  through  her  telling.  But  he 
could  smile  over  the  following  history  she  related  to  her 
last  knowledge,  for  he  recognized  characters.  Three  great 
heads — a  quondam  preacher,  a  quack  doctor,  and  a  de 
funct  banker — perpetrated  a  steal  from  a  colony  of  Penn 
sylvania  Quakers  who  seemed  to  be  the  greenest  possible 
community  the  party  of  the  first  part  could  discover.  An 
old  worn-out  placer  digging  in  Seven-up  Pete  Gulch  served 
the  decoy  purpose.  We  had  known  it  to  be  quite  worked 
out  and  abandoned  years  before.  This  syndicate  (the 
nice  term  assumed  by  themselves)  squatted  upon,  resur 
rected  this  "digging,"  flumed  it,  watered  it,  salted  it 
with  boughten  dust,  and  sold  it  to  the  Philadelphians  for 
a  cash  consideration  of  $75,000.  This  is  not  a  big  mining 
deal  and  a  rich  syndicate  could  not  feel  it,  but  that  sum 


30  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

invested  in  a  mine  that  was  not  and  could  not  be  worth 
$1,000  illustrates  what  fools  some  mortals  are  and  what 
rogues  are  others.  The  original  syndicate  was  accorded 
the  management  of  this  place,  and  after  adding  $80,000 
to  the  original  sum  as  developing  fund  the  company  was 
sold  out  for — the  entire  property  of  the  company — the 
value  of  the  sluice-boxes,  one  or  two  hundred  dollars. 

"Mr  DEAR  DR.  SAMUEL  SAWBONES:  The  turmoil  of 
this  office  makes  writing  else  than  of  business  a  burden. 
Out  of  the  office  my  thoughts  turn  to  you,  yet  my  head 
is  racked  by  dictation  of  mammoth  deals  which  won't 
give  way  to  affairs  of  the  heart.  Yes,  I  write  to  assure 
you  I  await  your  calling.  My  duties  here,  I  am  aware, 
do  not  meet  your  approval  nor  my  associations  accord  with 
your  humor,  but  you  will  comprehend  my  clinging  to  it 
when  you  learn  the  possibilities  annexed.  I  have  invested 
in  shares  in  the  Bonanza  Chief  and  hope  ere  long  to  pro 
vide  you  what  you  deserve — a  position  of  wealth — and 
to  allure  you  home  again.  I  hunger  for  you  when  I 
think  of  you  eating  dried  fish  spiced  with  icicles  in  the 
arctic  circle,  with  nothing  to  sweeten  these  save  recol 
lections  of  the  past  and  anticipations  of  the  future." 

And  with  this  letter  poor  Samuel's  hot  biscuits  raised — 
swelled  up  in  his  stomach  without  need  of  baking  powder. 
He  saw  the  autumn  sun  each  day  cut  out  fifteen  minutes 
more  of  the  light,  and  he  saw  this  star  reaching  away 
from  him,  leaving  more  darkness  in  his  soul. 

"The  damned  mining  sharks,"  remarked  he  to  his 
friend,  "have  hypnotized  by  their  process  of  suggestion 
the  poor  girl  and  are  robbing  her.  Oh,  how  much  more 
honorable  one's  abode  here  among  the  untutored  Eskimo 
than  among  such  evil  spirits  as  these  natives  would  exor 
cise  themselves  of." 


SAMUEL  BAWBONE&,  M.  D.  31 

He  did  not  lament,  nor  fume,  nor  fret.  He  wrote  that 
his  dried  salmon  and  canned  foods  were  so  seasoned  by 
her  love  that  each  meal  was  a  feast,  and  that  every  dream 
was  as  near  heaven  as  perfect  digestion  could  make  it. 
Samuel  is  not  a  great  liar,  but  it  is  not  the  way  in  love 
to  abandon  hope;  therefore  he  should  not  exhibit  despair. 
He  believes  the  true  nature  of  woman  is  to  be  manipu 
lated,  grown,  sculptured  into  any  possible  shape,  or  thing, 
or  end — only  necessary  a  skillful  artist.  He  says:  "Only 
can  this  idea  fail  when  there  are  anomalies  in  her  anat 
omy  or  degeneration  in  her  nerve  centers."  And  thus 
their  love  progressed  unprogressively  while  their  lives 
plodded  on  at  full  gallop.  The  excitement  of  the  Klon 
dike  snatched  Samuel  up  into  its  whirlpool,  and  the  final 
stampede  of  January,  1897,  found  him  in  its  ranks.  This 
went  from  Circle  City  in  great  state.  Circle's  most  mag 
nificent  women  with  gorgeous  dog  teams  headed  the  pro 
cession.  The  miners  of  Birch  Creek  district  wintering  in 
town  joined  the  stampede  and  gave  it  backbone ;  only  three 
souls  of  three  thousand  remained  in  Circle  City,  and  none 
returned  to  tell  the  tale  for  long  months  after.  From 
this  the  Klondike  was  started  on  its  record  of  world- 
beater. 

Very  few  of  these  original  locators  own  a  claim 
or  own  a  dollar.  Also,  many  of  the  bonanza  claims  were 
not  paying,  and  the  early  birds  did  not  all  get  good, 
healthy  worms.  Dawson  sprang  up  as  the  mining  camp 
center,  and  of  course  more  life  was  exhibited  here  this 
first  season  than  on  the  mining  dump.  By  the  time  of 
the  spring  clean-up  bonanza  claim  owner"  did  not  mean 
or  read  "gold  king."  Dr.  Sawbones  found  it  agreeable  to 
rustle,  as  was  ever  his  wont  and  as  was  the  law  of  the 
planet  under  which  he  was  born.  No  doubt  he  was  sub 
stituting  his  original  ice  castles  by  air  castles,  and  these 


32  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

were  to  be  built  of  dust — nuggets  of  gold.  No  doubt  he 
claimed  right,  title,  and  authority  to  protect  and  cherish 
the  same  femininity  who  so  fast  is  growing  in  mind  to 
paddle  her  own  canoe.  Her  last  sad  rites  had  been  to  no 
tify  him  she  had  joined  the  woman's  rights.  Oh !  oh !  oh ! 

"Good  Lord  have  mercy  upon  not  me,  but  her,  poor 
girl.  No,  this  is  not  the  influence  of  those  bold,  base 
men,  but  of  those  half-breed  women  of  her  town.  Oh, 
yes,  I  can  see  the  nasty  things  in  breeches,  for  they  must, 
being  doctors  and  lawyers  and  helpmates  to  impecunious 
disappointed  men,  trudge  about  as  we — of  course  with 
skirts  overtop.  Yes,  I  can  see  them  fill  her  full  of  tomfool 
truck  which  they  emphasize  'woman's  wisdom/  'woman's 
rights,'  and  so  forth.  Well,  upon  mature  reflection  it 
amuses  her  and  don't  hurt  me,  so  why  should  I  wail?  I 
wonder,  though,  when  she  comes  up  here,  if  she  will  preach 
or  teach  woman's  rights  to  the  native  women,  and  I  won 
der  how  it  would  work  among  them?  If  Skookum  Jim 
comes  home  and  finds  his  squaw  has  not  chopped  the  wood 
or  carried  the  water  and  has  partaken  of  her  dried  salmon 
without  a  pow-wow,  I  wonder  if  he  will  not  exorcise  the 
woman's  right  through  a  beating  and  a  howl?  Oh,  well, 
I  will  abide  my  time." 

Thus  spoke  Dr.  Samuel,  but  still  he  would  not  quiet. 
He  persisted  in  battering  the  woman's  rights  mantle  with 
such  little  nuggets  as  lay  before  him.  It  was  cited,  "Na 
ture  surrounds  us  with  examples  of  female  equality  and 
predominance,"  but  he  calls  for  cases.  "The  most  in 
dustrious  and  worthy  among  insect  life — the  busy  bee — 
has  only  a  queen  and  no  king."  Ah,  yes.  And  was  this 
beautiful  queen  ever  known  to  diverge  from  the  true  fem 
inine  path — that  of  procreating  the  species?  No  other 
queen  is  so  worshiped,  so  guarded,  and  all  this  through 
instinctive  adoration  of  motherly  virtues.  Not  the  least 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  S3 

of  their  loving  attentions  is  in  the  act  of  the  hive  keep 
ing  a  platoon  of  bees  ever  and  anon  through  reliefs,  as 
our  soldier  sentry,  fanning  the  air  within  through  a 
process  of  vibrating  their  wings,  thus  securing  a  change 
with  the  fresh  air  outside.  So  many  nice  things  must  be 
told  of  the  bee,  but  the  nicest  of  all  must  be  said  of  the 
simple,  matronly  office  of  the  queen.  And  why  is  not  the 
nasty  venomous  spider  recited.  The  ruling  spirit  here 
is  the  female.  She  towers  above  her  mate  in  a  degree 
that  leaves  no  question  as  to  who  is  lord  and  master.  She 
finishes  the  necessary  ovation  for  the  furtherance  of  her 
species  with  a  hunger,  rapacity,  that  only  saves  her  mate 
a  disastrous  end  from  his  capacity  to  escape  in  flight. 
There,  yes,  it  lately  has  been  discovered  that  the  female 
is  the  head,  the  leader  in  another  animal  colony.  The 
leader  of  a  flock  of  wild  geese  is  feminine.  The  flock  of 
chattering  geese  overhead — ah,  yes,  we  can  easily  com 
prehend  a  female  influence.  The  ruling  power  of  only 
poor  silly  geese !  "But  more  serious,"  announces  Dr. 
Sawbones,  "we  are  approached  with  claims  that  woman  is 
the  brighter  orb,  therefore  should  shine  in  the  human 
firmament,  should  lighten  it.  Should  I  say  this  is  ig 
norance  or  delusion?  Deductions  are  drawn  from  sup 
posed  cases.  Womankind  mistake  precocity  for  pro 
fundity.  The  female  is  precocious.  This  exhibits  early 
in  her  teens  when  she  outstrips  her  boy  pard  and  over 
tops  him.  From  this  springs  her  conceit.  I  will  not  dis 
cuss  why  the  Creator  thought  best  to  create  us,  but  dis 
cuss  the  fact  as  it  stands.  Like  the  short-distance  horse, 
the  female  distances  the  male  in  the  teens.  At  twenty 
she  has  accumulated  all  her  charms  and  matured  her 
brain.  Armed  with  a  finished  education  and  stored  with 
housekeeping  experience,  she  is  in  her  bridal  gown  waiting 
for  the  youth  who  ten  years  before  was  in  his  coHege 


34  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

gown,  who  five  years  since  was  nailing  up  his  professional 
shingle  or  merchandise  sign  or  opening  his  handiwork 
shop,  and  now  at  thirty,  the  present  time,  presumes  to  lead 
her  a  journey  through  what  is  left  of  life.  She  at  twenty, 
he  at  thirty,  are  fairly  equal.  She  at  thirty,  he  at  forty, 
are  equivalent.  She  at  forty,  he  at  fifty,  are  beginning  a 
divergence.  She  at  forty-five  begins  a  halt;  he  at  fifty- 
five  is  in  his  mental  prime  and  little  past  his  physical 
best.  She  at  fifty  is  getting  old  and  serves  well  only  the 
office  of  grandmother,  while  he  at  sixty,  though  a  little 
tottering  in  step,  does  his  very  best  business.  She  at 
sixty,  seventy,  eighty,  except  that  she  grows  feeble  in 
body,  runs  a  very  level  race.  He  at  seventy  is  coming  down 
off  his  perch  to  meet  her,  and  soon  thereafter  they  are 
traveling  again  hand  in  hand.  Therefore,  ye  aspiring 
maid,  look  well  to  this  curve  in  the  line  of  life.  You 
take  an  early  beautiful  leap  up  into  your  own  horizon. 
There  you  strive  with  a  master  for  a  few  brief  years  more. 
Then  you  must  be  satisfied  with  a  basking  in  the  sunshine 
of  the  orb  that  has  kept  on  and  up — satisfied  until  nat 
ural  exhaustion  sheers  it  again  within  your  path.  No, 
no.  You  cannot  follow  the  life-curve  of  man.  We  will 
allow  many  exceptions,  but  nothing  that  approaches  a 
rule,  and  on  the  general  principle  of  breeding  and  hus 
bandry  these  exceptions,  these  women  who  most  approach 
the  mental  capacity  of  man — or,  if  you  choose,  who  rise 
highest  in  literary  attainments — should  not  be  rushed  off 
into  places  which  she  may  fill,  but  which  have  no  demand 
for  her.  It  is  fittest  that  she,  too,  should  be  devoted, 
should  be  sacrificed,  in  the  lamentable  words  of  the  so 
ciety,  to  the  improvement  of  the  stock.  It  is  only  fool 
talk  to  say  that  she  can  fill  all  the  offices  of  men  and  all 
the  offices  of  women  too.  It  is  all  well  to  grow  our  girls 
into  queens,  but  let  us  decree  that  they  shall  live  to  beget 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  35 

kings.  That  the  best  bred  should  be  equal  in  rights  with 
man  because  she  is  fit  to  fill  his  offices,  leaving  the  feeble 
to  procreate  the  race,  is  not  fair  nor  rational.  It  is  use 
less  to  argue  that  she  can  be  judge,  jury,  lawyer,  doctor, 
politician,  and  mother  too." 

This  season's  clean-up  on  the  Klondike  reached  the  out 
side  with  Samuel  Sawbones'  earliest  letters,  and  while 
these  last  may  not  have  even  started  the  heart  of  his 
maiden,  the  gold  fever  of  the  Klondike  did  startle  the 
mining  world.  More  than  that,  it  started  on  the  fool's 
errand  scores  and  thousands  of  all  sorts  of  fools  and 
idiots  and  knaves,  among  whom  was  your  most  humble 
servant.  I  say  "fool's  errand,"  because  any  and  all  per 
sons  except  hardy,  experienced  miners  who  go  on  such 
stampedes  are  either  fools,  idiots,  or  knaves. 


36  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 


FORT  GET  THERE. 

ONE  of  the  trading  posts  at  St.  Michaels,  in  Behring 
Sea,  is  known  as  Fort  Get  There. 

Very  appropriate  indeed,  for  every  voyager  by  sea  to 
the  unknown  Alaska  sets  his  face  first  to  Fort  Get  There. 
Leaving  the  Pacific  coast,  there  is  only  one  little  beam  of 
sunshine,  Dutch  Harbor,  to  cross  the  cheerless,  chil^ 
dreary  sail  before  we  get  there.  And  then  when  I  first 
got  there  I  wanted  to  get  away  without  the  waste  of  a 
day's  time.  I  never  was  in  a  place  the  whole  of  my  long 
life  from  which  I  wanted  to  get  out,  from  which  I  wanted 
to  escape,  from  which  I  prayed  to  be  delivered,  so  muca 
as  from  Fort  Get  There,  at  St.  Michaels — this  miserable, 
mixed  big  Indian  and  little  Indian  camp;  the  big  In 
dians  being  the  two  trading  company  outfits  and  the 
little  Indians  being  the  native  Eskimos. 

Well,  I  must  go  back  to  Seattle  and  get  there  later. 

It  is  possible  to  make  the  navigation  route  to  the  Klon 
dike  one  of  comfort,  one  of  interest — maybe  one  of  luxury — 
but  the  Yukon  trading  companies  had  not  yet,  in  my  time, 
entered  into  the  possibilities.  They  had  quite  too  much 
to  do  with  impossibles.  Of  course  we  emigrants,  scarcely 
at  sea,  began  regulations  for  the  company  transporting  us, 
but  we  were  all  dumped  along  the  shores  of  the  Yukon  ere 
we  perfected  any  scheme  said  company  chose  to  elect. 

It  would  be  nice  in  me  to  call  ourselves  prospectors 
rather  than  emigrants,  but  I  was  seized  with  consternation 
upon  my  first  review  of  the  ship's  cargo.  The  brawny, 
sturdy  bone  and  sinew  demanded  by  the  fierce,  cold, 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  37 

rugged  Alaska  was  scarcely  an  element  in  the  mass  of  men. 
We  had  yellow  kids,  Texas  Jacks,  blonds  in  bloomers, 
scientific  miners  from  the  East,  cowboys,  slums,  newspaper 
correspondents,  some  Montana  and  California  miners  in 
fact.  The  baggage  was  as  incongruous  as  the  human 
cargo.  Every  one  had  a  canvas  bag,  everybody  had  a  gun 
and  knife  and  pipes  with  tobacco,  tablets  or  diaries,  cards, 
a  very  few  books,  and  fewer  picks  and  shovels.  One  hun 
dred  and  sixty  passengers  were  carried  on  this  boat  with 
passenger  accommodations  for  twenty  people.  A  reserva 
tion  on  the  second  deck  was  held  for  the  balance — 140 
souls:  a  space  of  58  by  24  feet  and  a  height  of  7  feet. 
This  rookery  served  as  beds,  closets,  smoking-rooms,  and 
gambling-dens.  The  nastiness  from  the  combine  and  the 
crowd  is  beyond  any  one's  belief.  Seattle  harbor  regu 
lations  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  its  office  to  have  allowed 
imposition  upon  a  fool  lot  of  humanity  as  we  were  like 
the  loading  of  this  boat.  But  of  course  this  trade,  this 
mass  of  men  was  sprung  upon  the  company  so  suddenly  it 
had  no  time  to  prepare !  Yes,  maybe  we  only  are  to 
blame,  and  we  will  never  do  it  again,  I  am  sure.  You 
know  what  fools  we  mortals  are  and  also  how  the  glitter 
of  gold  brings  the  fool  out  on  us. 

It  may  have  been  the  conditions  we  were  placed  in 
were  causes  for  the  drinking,  gambling,  and  carousing 
which  was  in  keeping  with  the  den  of  iniquity  in  its  tem 
poral  sense — the  rookery  in  which  we  were  encompassed. 

One's  experience  should  always  have  had  his  philosophy 
as  its  pioneer,  but  his  philosophy  gained  during  the  lux 
urious  college  season  seems  to  desert  him  during  his  buffs 
and  rebuffs  from  the  fighting  world.  On  this  trip  we  do 
not  want  experience,  but  cling  hard  to  our  philosophy. 
Many  comic  things  amuse  us  in  the  face  of  gambling,  riot 
ing,  and  languishing.  None  of  us  are  poor  devils  driven 


38  THIS  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

to  Alaska  through  poverty  or  to  escape  justice.  On  the 
other  hand,  we  are  mostly  business  men  and  gentlemen 
of  leisure  needing  trade  and  change  of  scene.  Of  course 
we  all  discuss  the  possibility  of  harvesting  a  little  gold 
while  out. 

The  all-water  route  is  a  matter  of  1,700  miles  from 
Seattle  to  Dutch  Harbor,  in  the  Aleutian  Islands,  a  coal 
ing  station,  and  from  there  700  miles  east  of  north  to 
St.  Michaels,  on  the  coast  of  Behring  Sea  and  near  the 
mouth  of  the  Yukon  Eiver — in  all  a  run  of  thirteen  days 
for  our  ship.  The  captain  of  the  ship  was  supposed  to 
be  a  most  excellent  fellow,  but  lest  some  doubt  might  fol 
low,  a  resolution  vouching  for  all  the  good  qualifications  of 
a  sea  captain  was  signed  by  one  and  all,  thus  setting  at 
rest  forever  any  doubt  or  dispute  of  the  matter.  I  men 
tion  this  only  because  I  would  otherwise  be  distrusting 
myself  and  relate  a  lot  of  little  things  which  I  thought 
the  captain  did  not  do  to  make  us  happy  on  the  trip. 

ST.  MICHAELS,  August  21,  1897. 
All  the  Yukon  transportation  companies  transfer  their 
ocean  cargoes  to  the  river  boats  at  this  point.  Further 
south,  80  miles,  is  the  mouth  of  the  Yukon  River,  and 
1,800  miles  nearly  east  is  the  Klondike — about  a  trip  of 
two  weeks.  On  a  nice  summer  day  this  nook  from  Behring 
Sea  called  Norton  Sound  appears  a  very  respectable  har 
bor.  Arriving  here,  more  startling  news  than  the  nuggets 
of  the  Klondike  was  that  people  were  starving  in  Dawson. 
We  held  meetings — always  miners'  meetings,  of  course — 
and  discussed  the  grub  question.  The  transportation  com 
panies  would  not  carry  us  any  freight  and  advised  that 
we  go  home.  However,  our  eyes  were  on  that  star  of  the 
East,  the  Klondike.  We  lay  bucking,  kicking,  and  swear 
ing  for  thirteen  days  at  Fort  Get  There,  St.  Michaels, 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.D.  39 

Norton  Sound,  Behring  Sea,  Alaska,  waiting  for  our 
transportation  company  to  pack  us  from  the  ocean  to  river 
boat  and  hie  us  on  our  way.  We  amused  ourselves — well, 
no,  not  much.  We  trade  a  little  with  the  Eskimos, 
but  they  and  their  wares  stunk  so  badly  we  feared  quaran 
tine  at  Dawson.  However,  we  bought  some  things  to  kill 
the  worse  smells  of  the  rookery  of  our  steamer.  In  the 
midst  of  my  perplexities  the  agent  here  had  in  the  com 
pany  store  with  him  a  sort  of  coyote  fellow,  who  says  he 
was  once  a  trooper  down  in  Montana,  as  clerk.  We  began 
to  get  hungry  already,  even  before  the  cold  struck  us,  and 
I  asked: 

"Mr.  Coyote,  can  you  give  me  some  crackers  ?" 

"No!" 

Later,  being  very  hungry,  I  said: 

"Mr.  Coyote,  please  have  you  any  cheese  ?" 

"No!  no!    Get  out  I" 

Such  fine  little  attentions  from  storekeepers  go  a  great 
way  to  make  one's  time  pass  pleasantly,  and  I  would  sug 
gest  to  the  N.  A.  T.  Company  to  ship  a  cargo  and  scatter 
them  along  their  trading  posts.  They  could  be  had  in 
Chicago,  and  no  doubt  a  choice  offered  during  a  dull 
packing  season. 

When  you  get  to  Fort  Get  There  naturally  you  will 
look  about  for  the  fort.  Well,  it  is  not  here  yet.  There 
is  a  Catholic  mission  established  here  and  an  Indian 
camp  of  Eskimo  Indians.  Then  there  are  actually  a 
dozen  cannon  in  St.  Michaels,  about  as  big  as  those  our 
boys  play  with  on  the  Fourth,  mounted  on  wooden  wheels 
and  pointing  out  into  the  harbor.  Of  course  they  won't 
shoot. 

About  800  people  are  at  this  date  (August  21)  floating 
about  in  this  bay,  and  the  season  is  getting  so  late  that 
doubt  exists  as  to  the  possibility  of  the  trip.  Nights  are 


40  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

already  getting  cold.  And  are  we  not  asses  for  continuing 
on  against  the  tide  that  begins?  We  already  realize  the 
fact  that  we  are  asses,  but  until  the  novelty  of  being  such 
wears  off  we  will  not  confess  to  it. 

August  27  finds  us  transferred  to  the  river  boat  and 
headed  up  the  Yukon.  The  waters  are  muddy,  the  shores 
are  wide-spreading  levels  with  low  brush,  and  the  charac 
teristic  bog,  icy  bottom.  Wood-yards  and  little  Indian 
villages  are  all  that  line  the  shores.  The  transportation 
company  trades  for  the  wood,  flour,  calico,  clothes,  trink 
ets,  etc.,  and  we  passengers  buy  fur  goods  and  novelties. 
Tricky  fellows  have  learned  to  trade  trinkets,  tobacco, 
and  edibles,  whereby  they  can  cheat  poor  Lo;  others  ac 
tually  steal  from  him,  and  some  fool  him  in  estimating 
values  of  coins.  I  am  ashamed  to  have  to  tell  this,  but 
I  have  been  ashamed  of  my  company  ever  since  having 
left  home.  In  good  old  Montana  days  we  would  here 
have  plenty  of  food  for  the  vigilantes.  I  am  almost  re 
solved  that  the  love  of  gold  has  so  enervated  humanity 
that  not  enough  heroism  is  left  in  it  out  of  which  to 
form  a  brave,  true  vigilante.  Playing  cards,  betting,  and 
laying  of  hands  upon  his  neighbor's  goods  seems  to  be  the 
chief  end  of  man — such  men  we  are  here — hurrying  to  the 
Klondike. 

The  natives  of  the  Yukon  have  luxurious  living  this 
season  of  the  year.  They  have  fresh  and  dried  fish,  wild 
game,  flour,  sugar,  and  all  luxuries  to  be  traded  for  on 
the  boats ;  and  we  find  them  dressed  in  all  manner  of  ma 
terials  and  with  such  fancies  entirely  as  would  not  be 
found  among  the  civilized.  I  never  saw  them  at  meals, 
but  often  found  one  or  several  sitting  eating  dried  fish 
with  apparent  relish. 


SAMUEL  SA  WBONE8,  M.  D.  41 


THE  LOWER  YUKON  COUNTRY. 

SEVEN  days  out  on  the  Yukon.  This  river  averages 
nearly  a  mile  in  width  as  far  up  as  the  present  limit;  it 
is  from  four  to  six  miles  an  hour  in  rapidity.  Lately 
we  are  surrounded  by  hills  approaching  the  dignity  almost 
of  mountains.  These  hills  are  covered  in  part  by  a  grass, 
yet  chiefly  by  the  moss  peculiar  to  Alaska.  Much  of  the 
hills  and  the  mountains  have  a  low  brush,  and  from  that 
various  sizes  of  brush  up  to  that  of  a  small  tree  in  great 
ness.  A  special  picturesque  fir  covers  areas  of  the  hill 
sides  and  shades  them  dark  green.  The  moss  is  of  many 
colors,  much  inclined  to  red;  the  brush  are  green,  red, 
and  peculiarly  yellow,  not  specially  an  autumn  yellow, 
but  a  born  tint  of  yellow.  There  is  a  blending  on  the 
shore  of  the  Yukon  of  all  these  colors — a  transposition 
of  them  purely  as  nature  can  bestow,  which  makes  our 
present  view  a  wonderland.  Two,  four,  six  hundrd  miles 
thus  far  and  no  apparent  finale  is  presenting  us  a  picnic 
not  dreamed  of  even  by  the  most  enthusiastic  delineator 
of  the  most  liberal  of  the  romantic  excursion  routes  of  the 
traveling  public.  It  was  indeed  a  wonderfully  beautiful, 
enchanting  surrounding,  a  bewitching  dream.  We  push 
along  this  lower  river  day  and  night.  The  moon  is  up 
about  a  foot  above  the  horizon,  where  it  appears  sta 
tionary  the  past  four  hours.  The  moon  seems  to  have 
become  loony  up  here  in  Alaska.  It  has  deserted  its  color 
— its  bright,  honest  silver  face,  given  up  its  argyle  smile, 
and  shines  with  a  bloated,  bilious  sallowness,  an  absolute 
golden  radiance.  The  heretic !  Everything  inclines  to 


42  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

yellow.  I  can  state,  however,  that  we  are  getting  sick  of 
the  monometallic  currency  as  it  strikes  us  here — trading 
with  dust. 

At  this  present  stage  we  are  in  a  furore.  We  meet  the 
company's  previous  up-river  boat;  it  is  coming  back. 
Low  water  has  frightened  it,  and  with  its  choice  cargo — 
passengers  and  whisky — it  is  on  the  back  track,  giving  us 
warning  not  to  hope  for  the  Klondike  this  season.  We 
rage,  but  we  do  not  despair.  The  oldest  inhabitant  does 
not  recollect  of  low  water  before  this  season. 

A  little  further  on  and  900  miles  from  the  coast  is 
Minook  City.  We  approach  this  and  are  offered  oppor 
tunity  to  winter  here.  A  little  mushroom  of  tents.  We 
are  permitted  grub  at  Klondike  prices  and  guaranteed  by 
the  city  platters  excellent  mines  on  all  sides.  It  is  sur 
prising  to  see  how  many  and  with  what  resignation  they 
step  off  here  for  the  next  eight  months'  incarceration. 
No,  thank  you,  captain.  I  will  go  on,  and  when  your  old 
scow  sticks  in  the  mud  I  will  paddle  my  own  canoe  on  and 
up.  I  however,  bought  a  town  lot  in  Minook.  There  are 
some  known  mines  in  the  vicinity,  several  of  which  pay 
very  well.  There  are  prospects  for  more,  and  when  all 
the  horde  unloading  spread  prospecting  we  may  have  the 
pleasure  of  recording  a  new  Klondike. 

Three  hundred  and  eighty  miles  further  in  is  Fort 
Yukon.  This  is  the  region  of  low  water.  Our  boat 
promises  to  go  on  to  that  Indian  camp  of  a  dozen  log 
huts  and  a  missionary.  Nothing  new  to  chronicle  while 
on  this  stretch  save  little  incidents.  We  are  eating  our 
meals  with  fingers  in  lieu  of  knives,  forks,  and  spoons. 
Our  fellow-passengers  who  deserted  us  at  Minook  kept — 
no  doubt  meant  as  souvenirs — all  the  tableware  of  the 
boats,  leaving  us  tin  cups,  tin  plates,  and  fingers  for 
feasting  ourselves  from.  They  make  no  apologies  and  we 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  43 

make  no  excuses  for  them,  save  that  they  learned  the 
necessity  for  self-preservation  while  journeying  the  past 
four  weeks.  There  is  no  picking  for  us,  therefore  will 
not  go  and  do  likewise. 

Stopping  to  wood  the  boat  to-day,  I  beheld  a  scene  pe 
culiar  to  this  stream.  A  queen  of  these  shores,  an  Indian 
woman  gorgeously  decorated  with  furs,  came  up  the  shore 
with  a  dash,  she  at  the  helm — not  of  state,  but  of  her 
bark  canoe  and  a  team  of  dogs  at  the  line,  making  a  dis 
play  as  well  as  rapid  transit.  The  said  subject  received 
the  munificent  revenue  of  $32  for  eight  cords  of  wood  and 
began  immediately  to  turn  her  coins  of  silver  and  gold 
into  luxuries:  a  gorgeous  bandanna  handkerchief,  a  bag 
of  crackers,  yards  of  gay-colored  prints,  and — will  you 
believe  it  ? — a  lot  of  soap ! 

Here  we  are  high  and  dry  sure,  though  the  river  looks 
big  enough  for  a  gunboat  to  pass  up.  A  dozen  cabins  all 
told  is  the  real  estate  of  Fort  Yukon,  owned  by  Indians,  a 
missionary,  and  the  transportation  companies.  The  In 
dians  are  off  fishing  for  the  winter's  grub,  leaving  house 
and  home  vacant;  but  to-day  not  a  cabin  is  lonely.  We 
have  squatted  into  and  upon  everything  like  shelter.  The 
Indians  may  come  home  any  day  and  scalp  us,  as  we  de 
serve,  but  we  are  taking  all  sorts  of  chances  in  every 
thing.  Many  passengers  deserted  their  craft  on  the  way 
up  the  river  and  many  more  propose  returning  from  this 
point.  Two  dozen  stop  here,  while  the  boat  sails  away 
down  to  the  sea ;  stop  here  to  be  "Nearer,  my  god,  to  thee" 
— to  the  gold  of  the  Klondike.  We  discuss  the  possibili 
ties,  which  are  these:  poling  up  the  river  in  canoes;  wait 
ing  for  ice  and  going  up  with  sleds ;  but  we  have  no  dogs. 
Dawson  is  4  D  miles  up,  and  twenty  days  with  dogs  will 
land  us. 

We  are  here  now  a  week  waiting  for  something  to  turn 


44  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

up — some  heroic  captain  willing  to  force  a  channel  through 
the  Yukon  flats.  The  Indians  are  coming  home  and  they 
have  grippe,  true  blue  white  folks'  grippe,  and  one  is  dead 
of  it.  Oh,  their  hideous  crying  dogs  and  babies !  Doll  on 
Alaska  remarks:  "The  Eskimo,  or  rather  the  Yukon 
Indian  babies  do  not  cry."  Doll  evidently  is  a  great  liar, 
for  these  brats  squeal  and  bellow  equal  to  any  little  Cau 
casian  I  ever  was  entertained  by. 

I  had  the  pleasure  to-day  of  meeting  Mr.  Whipple,  dis 
coverer  of  claim  No.  1,  Eldorado  Gulch,  Klondike.  Mr. 
Whipple  was  paddling  his  canoe  down  the  river,  with 
Minook  City  his  objective.  He  bought  200  pounds  of 
flour  here  to  mend  leaks  in  his  winter  stores.  Likewise 
he  wished  50  pounds  of  sugar,  but  he  had  no  sack,  and 
the  trading  store  never  furnish  anything  but  the  raw 
goods.  If  Mr.  Whipple  were  mining  down  in  Montana 
he  would  reach  down  and  take  gunny  sacks  from  off  his 
feet  and  fill  in  his  sugar,  but  here  the  miner  learns  to  ac 
commodate  himself  not  only  to  the  Indian  squaw,  but  to 
Indian  dress,  therefore  nothing  but  moccasins  are  on  his 
feet.  Mr.  Whipple  finally  tied  up  the  bottom  of  his  over 
alls  and  got  away  with  his  sugar.  This  simply  illustrates 
the  accommodations  met  with  in  these  Yukon  trading 
companies.  This  man  Whipple,  as  before  stated,  staked 
claim  No.  1  at  Eldorado,  one  of  the  best  on  the  Klon 
dike,  and  when  only  partly  prospected  sold  out.  He 
took  his  few  thousands,  went  into  Dawson  City,  hired 
all  the  dogs  and  sleds  to  be  found  and  held  a  grand 
carnival  up  and  down  Main  Street,  and  waked  from  his 
dreams  a  few  days  later  broke.  After  realizing  that  a 
magnificent  fortune  had  been  his,  but  was  his  no  more,  he 
turned  tail  to  the  Klondike  and  hopes  to  mend  his  means 
at  Minook  City. 


SAMUEL  SA  WBONES,  M.  D.  45 

We  hold  the  fort,  the  old  Fort  Yukon! 

No!    I  see  the  old  fort  holds  us! 
I  fear  we  shall  die  in  Fort  Yukon 

If  we  hold  the  fort  or  it  holds  us! 


46  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 


ON  TO  DAWSON. 

AH,  we  did  do  a  lot  of  fretting,  fuming,  crying  before 
hurt  uselessly,  for  here  we  are  actually  on  our  way  again 
to  Dawson.  The  Bella,  the  beautiful  Bella,  beautiful  not 
because  of  gaudy  colors  and  elegant  lines,  for  she  is  any 
old  tub  of  a  boat,  but  because  she  acts  the  good  Samaritan 
and  picks  us  up  from  the  wayside,  and  because  Captain 
Dickson  took  us  stranded  idiots  by  the  hand  and  gave 
us  a  boost  on  our  quixotic  adventures.  Never  a  day  be 
fore  loomed  up  so  brightly,  so  happy,  so  auspicious.  A 
hundred-pound  package  was  as  light  as  our  best  loaf  of 
bread;  the  gangplank  was  as  wide  as  the  path  to  Castle 
Luxury;  the  snow  in  the  streets  of  Yukon  was  warm 
even.  We  bid  good-by  to  the  remaining  good  souls  with 
feigned  tears  and  are  again  on  the  dangerous  shoals  of 
the  Yukon  River.  We  take  the  Eobber,  that  branch  which 
has  last  robbed  the  main  stream  of  its  feed,  and  we  are 
treated  royally  by  the  most  gracious  thief.  Nothing  was 
left  wanting  in  its  kindness,  and  we  are  singing  praises 
even  to  the  robber.  Of  course  we  will  get  there.  Now  we 
eat,  drink,  and  be  merry,  for  there  is  no  end  to  the 
good  things  aboard  the  Bella. 

This  being  the  other  steamship  company,  we  had  signed 
certain  stipulations  for  the  favor,  such  as  exonerating  the 
company  from  the  usual  dangers  of  the  sea,  starvation, 
freezing,  or  capture  by  pirates.  And  most  important  was 
to  help  wood  the  boat.  At  dusk  the  boat  tied  up  on  the 
bank  of  the  river,  and  we  pilgrims  bound  to  the  unholy 
land  of  gold  had  a  little  task  of  gathering  in  about  fifteen 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  4? 

cords  of  wood.  Sometimes  it  was  cut,  again  it  was  not. 
Snow  was  deep  enough,  to  hide  the  snags  and  fallen  logs 
and  to  pour  down  our  necks  and  keep  us  from  getting 
too  hot.  Oh,  yes,  it  was  fun.  We  were  "on  to  Dawson," 
and  any  stick  we  could  turn  to  roll  us  on  was  fun.  We 
had  big  lamps  stuck  about  in  the  bush  and  we  need  notv 
necessarily  gouge  our  eyes  out.  There  was  enough  snow 
to  make  falling  easy,  provided  you  let  your  load  of  wood 
fall  the  other  way;  and  then  you  must  not  fall  off  the 
gangplank  into  the  river. 


48  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 


CIRCLE  CITY. 

Two  short  days  in  rapid  waters  piloting  in  and  about 
bars,  with  gathering  of  wood  along  the  shores  for  the 
boat,  and  we  were  landed  at  Circle  City,  80  miles  up  the 
river  from  Fort  Yukon.  The  gangplank  was  down,  where 
upon  a  delegation  of  "prominent  citizens"  boarded  us. 
Below  in  the  boiler-room,  among  Eskimo  dogs  and  Si- 
wash  Indians,  they  lined  over  and  upon  our  luggage  and 
traps  and  read  off  their  resolutions,  and  politely  requested 
our  concurrence  in  said  memorials.  In  plain,  "What  are 
you  going  to  do  about  it?"  Captain  Eay,  of  the  United 
States  army,  mounted  a  box  of  evaporated  potatoes  and 
made  a  nice  little  speech,  in  which  he  tried  to  make  them 
believe  they  were  good  American  citizens  and  that  they 
certainly  could  not  mean  to  disturb  the  peace  and  break 
the  municipal  laws  of  the  growing  metropolis,  Circle  City, 
as  also  the  law  and  Constitution  of  the  great  and  glorious 
United  States.  That  now,  after  having  acted  their  play 
so  admirably,  they  must  go  home  and  not  rob  the  boat — 
take  the  bread  and  cheese  out  of  the  mouths  of  their  neigh 
bors,  the  good  people  on  the  Klondike  who  were  hungry, 
whose  mouths  have  been  watering  a  whole  season  for  the 
good  things  of  this  good  boat's  stores,  who  stretch  out 
empty  hands  for  the  same  and  return  nuggets  in  thanks 
giving. 

A  very  nice,  very  eloquent,  very  proper  speech  he  made, 
appealing  to  justice,  humanity,  and  loyalty.  He,  how 
ever,  made  a  serious  mistake  in  appealing  to  patriotism, 
for  the  chief  speaker  of  the  committee  bounced  the  most 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  49 

prominent  pile  of  luggage,  which  happened  to  be*  a  keg  of 
assorted  sweet  pickles  of  Captain  Bay's  own  importation, 
and  made  the  following  back  talk: 

"We,  the  association  now  presenting,  are  the  people,  the 
miners,  the  bone  and  sinew  of  Alaska.  We  are  hungry; 
w,e  are  thirsty.  For  weeks  we  are  out  of  butter  and  eggs, 
nor  have  we  tasted  of  the  Vienna  sausage  or  Eochefort 
cheese  upon  which  I  trample  this  present  moment.  The 
year  past  we  have  had  no  milk  for  our  tea  and  coffee  nor 
for  our  motherless  kids — nothing  for  them  save  dried  fish 
and  the  native  Iceland  moss.  We  are  taxed  $12  for  our 
flour,  which  is  damaged  beyond  the  relish  of  the  Siwash 
squaw.  Our  mines  glitter  with  gold,  but  our  stomachs 
pale  and  shrivel  from  hunger  and  we  lack  strength  to 
pan  out  this.  Those  with  food  must  carry  it  70  miles  to 
the  mines  on  dog  sleds.  The  season  is  here.  Duty  to 
themselves,  their  families,  and  to  posterity  confront  them. 
Their  diggings,  their  homes,  their  healths  stare  at  them 
as  grim  specters.  You  must  not  forget,  my  dear  captain, 
my  brilliant  soldier,  that  we  are  American  citizens,  true 
blue,  breathing  under  the  Stars  and  Stripes  and  hoping 
to  bleach  our  bones  under  the  same.  Here  we  see  you 
aid  and  abet  this  boat,  this  commercial  company,  in  its 
attempt  to  pass  by  your  wards,  your  citizens.  You  allow 
us  to  starve,  desert  us,  in  these  far-off  cold  shores,  these 
mountain  wilds,  allow  them  to  blockade,  chill,  freeze 
our  loyal  blood,  and  for  what?  To  carry  bread  and  but 
ter  into  foreign  ports,  into  alien  camps,  to  feed  and  re 
lieve  British  possessions,  to  throw  our  lives  and  safety 
away  for  men  sheltered  by  the  flag  of  Great  Britain.  Is 
that  the  mission  of  you,  representing  the  American  States, 
an  officer  of  its  grand  army?" 

Even  Captain  Eay  acknowledged  the  justice  and  the 
patriotism  of  the  miners'  meeting  and  meekly  slipped 


50  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

out  and  off.  The  committee,  without  force  or  ceremony, 
opened  the  hatch  of  the  vessel  and  relieved  us  of  thirty 
tons  of  the  best  things  in  the  ship's  hold.  This  included 
flour,  bacon,  beans,  boneless  turkey,  butter,  buckwheat, 
canned  luxuries,  cheeses,  etc. 

On  to  Dawson  September  26. 

The  river  lessens,  the  distance  lessens,  the  time  lessens, 
and  now  we  feel  safe  to  say  we  will  get  there,  even  though 
the  ice  runs  freely  and  the  thermometer  says  five  degrees 
this  morning.  I  keep  cheering  the  captain  by  pointing 
out  to  him  that  the  wild  geese  still  hold  the  country. 
Therefore  we  must  have  some  nice  warm  weather  still 
later. 

The  only  settlement  on  the  Yukon  to  pass  is  Forty 
Mile.  It  is  a  Canadian  post,  but  mostly  settled  by  Amer 
icans,  while  much  of  the  diggings  about  the  head  of 
Forty  Mile  are  on  tributaries  from  the  American  side  of 
the  line.  It  is,  however,  insignificant  to  us,  and  we  barely 
touch  there  to  get  our  exchange  of  mail.  Sixty  miles 
more  and  we  are  there. 

All  hail  to  that  smoky  nook  around  the  corner  ahead! 
Yes,  'tis  the  mouth  of  the  Klondike  and  the  city.  City? 
Well,  'tis  Dawson.  And  we  rustle  and  bustle  for  the 
landing?  Oh,  no.  We  have  little  or  nothing  to  land 
save  ourselves,  and  landing  is  like  the  landing  of  a  herd 
of  cattle — we  must  almost  be  driven  off,  for  we  know 
/.ot  where  we  go. 


SAMUEL  SA  WBONES,  M.  D.  51 


DAWSON  ON  THE  KLONDIKE. 

OCTOBER  1,  1897.  Two  days  ago  there  climbed  the 
mighty  Yukon  and  hove  to  at  the  wharf  in  Dawson  City 
a  steamboat  of  several  hundred  tons  burden.  Upon  the 
first  discovery  of  its  smoke  floating  high  over  the  banks 
away  down  the  stream  the  populace  of  the  town  and  of  the 
Klondike  on  the  other  side  of  the  river  floated,  then  swept 
out  to  the  landing.  The  band  came,  too,  and  played 
"The  girl  I  left  behind  me,"  with  other  lively  airs,  and 
while  it  played  it  looked  to  see  if  by  chance  the  girl  might 
have  come  with  other  luxuries.  The  mounted  police  on 
foot  also  came,  slowly,  as  is  their  wont,  but  not  to  keep 
order  in  the  throng,  for  it  was  too  enthusiastic,  too  wild 
for  restraint. 

Cheers,  hurrahs,  and  the  chimes  of  a  thousand  Eskimo 
dogs  made  the  scene  hideous.  Fur  caps  were  tossed  and 
parkees  waved  in  lieu  of  handkerchiefs,  and  there  was  in 
fact  a  hot  time.  To-day  another  boat,  just  as  big,  just 
as  pretentious,  just  as  important  in  every  particular,  and 
with  just  as  valuable  a  cargo,  inasmuch  as  your  very 
humble  servant  was  part  and  parcel  thereof,  puffed  its 
smoke  high  over  the  cliffs  and  paddled  its  way  up  the 
rapids  and  hove  to  at  the  same  wharf  without  attracting 
the  least  attention — without  the  blowing  of  whistles  or 
even  a  tender  of  the  freedom  of  the  city.  We  wished  to 
dispel  the  gloom  of  the  people  by  a  little  cheerfulness  of 
our  own,  and  struck  up  "There'll  be  a  hot  time  in  the  old 
town  to-night."  But  there  was  not;  in  fact,  there  was 
an  icy  cold  time.  No  one  was  looking  for  us,  no  latch- 


52  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

string  to  a  warm  hearth  hung  out,  and  we  camped  in  a 
zero  hospitality. 

The  spontaneous  outburst  of  the  Klondikers  over  the 
first  boat  was  not  of  an  overloaded  stomach.  On  the  other 
hand,  it  was  a  hungry  appeal,  eagerness,  hope  for  bread, 
and  its  small  tonnage  was  a  disappointment,  a  shock. 
Only  the  remnants  after  a  hold-up  by  the  miners  at 
Circle  City  was  left  of  the  load.  It  was  in  the  choleric 
minds  of  the  populace  that  we,  too,  were  coming  light- 
handed  and  heavy-footed,  which  was  the  case,  for  the 
"miners'  committee"  at  Circle  had  boarded  us  and  bared 
us  down  to  a  few  paltry  tons  of  solid  stuffs  and  no  liquids. 

Of  the  160  passengers  leaving  Seattle  on  August  5,  as 
yet  but  four  of  us  have  reached  the  Klondike.  The  Yellow 
Kid,  Texas  Jack,  the  girl  in  bloomers,  the  scientist  from 
Boston,  the  capitalist  from  New  York,  the  gentleman  of 
Chicago,  all  loud  in  their  daring  and  doing,  have  stranded, 
and  we  few,  only  by  dint  of  perseverance,  cheek,  push, 
and  might,  have  won  the  race.  Of  800  people  with  us  in 
St.  Michaels  harbor  only  this  load  of  50  are  here  or  will 
get  here  this  season.  The  ice  begins  to  run,  and  this  boat 
must  unload  to-night  and  be  off  in  the  morning,  or  else 
it  will  be  harbored  here  for  the  winter. 

Passengers'  outfits  are  being  stored  in  the  trading  com 
panies'  warehouses  to  be  inspected  by  the  government  of 
ficer.  Everything,  from  association,  from  valuable  ser 
vice  rendered  it,  has  become  very  precious,  and  we  fear  to 
trust  it  out  of  sight.  We  keep  watch  for  long  hours — we 
watch  the  other  fellow,  who  is  watching  his  store  and  re 
turning  our  compliment  by  watching  us.  It  is  cold— 
below  zero.  We  dance  to  keep  warm,  walk  to  ease  up  a 
joint,  and  whistle  to  keep  up  courage.  Upon  the  top  of 
our  parcels  goes  the  ship's  cargo,  and  we  are  invited  to 
call  later.  Thus  we  are  turned  loose  on  the  town,  but  do 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  53 

not  start  out  to  paint  it  red  nor  to  seek  bed  and  board, 
for  we  are  advised  none  are  to  be  had.  The  main  street 
feels  as  though  we  might  spread  our  blankets  and  rest, 
but  then  we  must  share  with  the  thousand-and-one  curs 
already  located.  Great  luck!  We  find  an  unfinished  log 
cabin  and  lodge  there:  the  few  shavings  gave  our  weary 
heads  and  chilly  hearts  the  best  rest  for  days  back. 

October  2.  The  sun  shines  here  this  morning  as  it 
does  outside.  The  days  are  of  moderate  lengths.  It  is  no 
colder  than  we  are  familiar  with — midway  between  freez 
ing  and  zero — and  the  atmosphere  is  dry,  bracing,  and 
agreeable,  and  no  special  ill  threatens,  yet  I  feel  depressed, 
silent,  weak-kneed,  desolate.  Ah,  I  see  now.  I  am  hun 
gry,  and  nowhere  can  I  get  my  breakfast.  Sure  that  is  it, 
and  I  am  off  down  to  our  old  friend  the  boat  that  carried 
us  over.  There  I  blarney  the  cook,  who  permits  me  to 
take  a  cup  of  hot  water.  While  drinking  it  I  tell  him  a 
thrilling  scene  of  the  night,  and  he  dares  not  say  nay  to 
the  handful  of  sea  biscuits  and  cold  bacon  I  seize  upon. 
This  is  my  first  breakfast  on  the  Klondike. 

This  day's  house-hunting  steered  me  into  the  face  of  a 
colony  from  home  tenting  on  a  gravel  bar  on  the  Yukon — 
dear  old  faces  because  from  dear  old  home.  I  had  a 
mighty  meal  of  slapjacks,  beans,  bacon,  and  a  relish  of 
cheese  and  crackers.  I  was  warmed  up,  restored  in  mind 
and  body,  and  upon  the  stimulus  of  the  occasion  rented  a 
house  on  First  Avenue — a  cabin  18  by  24  feet,  one  story, 
one  room  and  kitchen,  for  $200  per  month  in  advance  for 
six  months.  Here  I  am  now  at  home — not  quite  "Sweet 
home,"  but  the  only  old  thing  of  a  home  I  have  had;  the 
only  thing  I  have  had  for  sixty  days  that  I  should  like  to 
call  home  for  a  pet  dog.  I  can  at  least  rest  my  head  and 
heart  and  achy  old  bones  in  peace  and  without  chance  of 
being  walked  over,  sat  upon,  spit  on,  steamed  through,  and 


54  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

chilled;  without  having  my  shin  bones  sampled  daily 
by  prowling  curs  or  being  a  cache  for  the  surplus  live 
stock  propagated  by  Siwash  Indians.  The  old  arm-chair 
is  not  here,  nor  the  foot-stool ;  the  feather  bed  and  spring 
mattress  give  not  their  balm.  Three-legged  stools,  crude 
pine  table,  spruce  pole  beds,  and  the  usual  unwashed  fit 
tings  of  a  pioneer  fill  up  our  furniture.  But  our  prayers 
are  not  for  our  surroundings.  We  feel  a  little  frightened 
over  the  matter  of  food  for  the  winter,  and  our  daily  bread 
will  possibly  absorb  all  our  devotions. 

October  3.  The  climate  conditions  are  serene  in  Daw- 
son  at  this  present  writing.  No  more  glorious  sun  shines 
than  ours  of  to-day.  Everything  is  in  keeping  with  an 
old-timer's  remark:  "This  is  the  finest  winter  climate  in 
the  world."  Every  condition  seems  to  vouch  for  his  as 
surance  that  it  never  grows  colder  here  than  in  Michigan, 
Maine,  or  Montana;  that  we  learn  to  love  it  and  seek  to 
abide  in  it.  But  we  are  startled  so  often  when  we  wish  to 
enjoy  the  glories  and  wonders  of  the  Klondike  by  the 
barter. 

"Any  flour  to  trade?" 

"No." 

"Any  beans  ?    Any  bacon  ?" 

We  are  held  up,  as  it  were,  so  often  this  way  that  we 
wish  we  had  flour  and  beans  and  bacon  to  trade  or  to  give 
away.  What  do  they  want  to  trade  us  for  these  staples? 
Anything;  dust,  nuggets,  simpler  foods,  clothes,  etc.  We 
are  offered  200  pounds  of  moose  meat  for  a  hundred-pound 
sack  of  flour.  We  count  our  flour  and — oh,  no,  not  one 
pound  to  spare,  and  the  trading  companies  will  not  give  us 
a  bit.  We  find  moose  meat  selling  for  $1  per  pound  this 
morning,  as  was  also  fresh  fish.  Milord  Bacon,  our  King 
Flour,  and  Chief  Beans  are  not  to  be  had  for  love  or 
money. 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  55 

Contemplation  makes  the  sun  shine  less  lively  and  the 
temperature  seems  a  degree  lower,  and  memories  from 
away  over  out  of  the  country  steal  in  among  these  sad 
thoughts.  However,  our  sleep  is  refreshed  by  dreams  of 
the  gold  fields  on  the  Klondike  and  the  magnificent  for 
tunes  there  awaiting  us. 

Mining  is  quiet.  First,  it  is  the  season  for  preparation ; 
a  little  too  early  to  mine  because  the  ground  and  waters 
are  not  frozen  substantial;  second,  there  is  a  strike  at 
the  mines  because  the  wages  are  being  tried  to  be  forced 
down  from  $1.50  per  hour  to  $1  per  hour.  Old  prices 
were  $1.50  per  hour,  and  with  the  rise  in  grub  it  should 
not  be  too  much  to-day.  Besides,  working  for  wages, 
miners  not  having  mines  of  their  own  have  a  choice  of 
taking  "lays"  (leases)  on  mines  in  which  they  receive  50 
per  cent,  of  the  output.  Every  man  to  his  mind  in  the 
matter  of  working  for  wages,  working  on  lays,  or  pros 
pecting  for  himself. 

Dawson,  the  chief  camp  of  the  Klondike  mining  dis 
trict,  is  situated  on  the  Yukon  River,  which  runs  a  little 
west  of  north.  The  Yukon  at  this  point  is  one-third  of 
a  mile  wide,  very  deep  and  rapid.  The  Klondike  River 
comes  into  the  Yukon  from  the  east,  cutting  a  chunk  off 
the  camp.  The  decapitated  part  is  named  Klondike  City. 
The  Klondike  River  is  100  yards  wide,  not  very  deep,  but 
rapid,  tortuous,  rocky,  and  unfit  for  navigation  except  for 
pole  boats  or  very  small  motor  boats.  Three  miles  from 
the  mouth  of  the  Klondike  Bonanza  Creek  empties  into  it 
from  the  south,  and  14  miles  up  Bonanza  Creek  comes  into 
it  Eldorado  Creek,  a  little  from  the  southwest.  Bonanza 
Creek  and  Eldorado  Creek  have  produced  thus  far  all 
the  gold  of  the  Klondike  district.  The  Klondike  River 
pans  out  nothing  in  either  bar  diggings  or  gulch  dig 
gings. 


56  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

Three  hundred  houses  and  log  cabins  may  overestimate 
its  size.  There  are  at  present  300  tents,  but  they  are  fast 
hauling  down  as  the  cold  and  demand  for  miners  press. 
It  is  very  funny  to  see  the  fantastic  shacks  grown  from  the 
boats  and  scows  that  floated  the  population  down  here 
from  the  lakes.  They  are  upside  down,  on  end,  halved 
and  spliced,  covering  dugouts  and  interwoven  with  tents 
and  log  huts.  One  wonders  what  they  can  mean  until  he 
noses  about  in  them  and  finds  them  inhabited. 

Dawson  town  site  is  a  flat,  one  side,  almost  straight, 
bordering  on  the  river,  all  the  rest  of  it  encircled  by  a 
mountain,  the  greatest  depth,  in  its  middle,  being  one- 
third  of  a  mile.  It  would  be  swampy  only  that  it  is 
frozen  solid  in  winter,  while  the  moss  covering  protects 
it  from  thawing  out  more  than  a  depth  of  one  or  two  feet 
in  summer.  The  matter  of  streets  in  Dawson  will  be  a 
serious  one  if  it  attains  to  a  busy  city. 

The  water  supply  is  the  Yukon  River,  through  buckets 
in  summer  and  ice  sleds  in  winter.  On  the  hillside  at 
the  north  end  of  town  are  some  beautiful  springs,  and 
this  location  is  becoming  popular  as  a  residence  site.  The 
shore  water  of  the  Yukon  being  the  Klondike,  the  supply 
is  clear,  fresh  and  apparently  good  in  all  particulars. 

Lots  on  First  Avenue  are  worth  $5,000  to  $10,000. 
However,  not  much  is  doing  in  real  estate  at  present. 
The  atmosphere  is  too  full  of  other  business,  and  one  is 
not  apt  to  neglect  a  choice  claim  for  a  mere  matter  of 
house,  lot,  and  home  luxuries.  I  am  not  well  booked  as 
yet  in  affairs  here  and  will  give  details  later.  I  have  not 
yet  been  to  the  mines.  The  food  supply  keeps  us  think 
ing,  talking,  and  quarreling.  Every  day  it  seems  to  grow 
more  dark.  To-day  I  heard  tell  of  a  man  who  had  had 
no  food  for  four  days.  No,  not  scarce  yet,  but  no  one 
will  give  or  sell  through  fear  of  shortage  in  the  winter. 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.D.  57 

A  very  hungry  man  dropped  into  our  cabin  and  we,  for 
getting  the  situation,  gave  him  a  share  of  our  dinner — 
bread  and  butter,  coffee,  beans,  and  a  slice  of  ham.  He 
handed  out  his  sack.  "There;  take  out  $5;  it  was  worth 
it."  Now  and  then  we  see  sandwiches  selling  on  the  street 
at  $1.  But  they  are  hard  truck.  The  two  trading  com 
panies,  so  far  as  they  can  fill  old  orders,  continue  to  do  so 
at  old  prices:  flour,  $12  per  hundred  pounds;  bacon,  37 
cents  per  pound;  beans,  25  cents.  All  classes  of  food 
are  selling  on  the  side  for  $1  per  pound.  I  am  hearing 
the  starvation  question  from  morning  to  night.  Murphin, 
from  New  York,  has  just  remarked:  "In  our  city  if  a 
man  has  a  big  sack  of  dust  he  can  go  at  a  brisk  gait  and 
carry  a  high  head,  but  here  if  he  has  several  hundred 
pounds  of  flour  he  can  just  rush.  Dust  doesn't  count  any 
thing."  The  Honorable  Joy,  member  from  Montana,  says : 
"I  haven't  had  the  wrinkles  out  of  my  stomach  for  four 
days." 

October  4.  I  called  again  to-day  for  my  baggage, 
which  was  unloaded  and  stored  in  the  A.  C.  Company's 
warehouses.  "Your  trunks  are  personal  baggage.  All 
else  you  must  pay  transportation  for."  I  had  two  trunks, 
which  were  handed  over.  Some  bundles,  100  pounds  of 
flour,  and  100  pounds  of  other  grub  were  taxed  for  freight. 
Nothing  more  was  said;  nothing  exacted  for  duty  upon 
this  outfit.  My  pard  and  I  resolved  ourselves  into  pack 
mules,  for  no  transportation  was  at  service,  and  carried 
home  our  things.  There  we  sat  upon  them,  wept  over 
them,  and  bewailed  their  littleness. 

There  are  a  few  teams  of  horses  in  Dawson  freighting  for 
$10  per  hour.  These  will  probably  be  killed  off  for  want  of 
food,  and  for  want  of  feed  for  the  dogs  the  horses  must 
go  to  the  faithful  plodding  winter  motor  power  of  the 
country. 


58  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

Through  my  side  window  I  can  view  the  internal  ar 
rangement  of  my  neighbor  through  his.  It  is  a  bar  and 
seems  to  be  dealing  much  in  single  drinks.  A  drink  is  50 
cents,  which  possibly  accounts  for  the  loneliness  of  the 
patron.  Of  course  after  this  first  drink  one  may  feel  the 
moon  to  shine  a  little  more  cheerful.  He  possibly  will 
imagine  his  flour-sack  fuller,  and  in  the  glow  of  hope 
and  good-fellowship  invite  his  next  best  friend  to  drink 
with  him.  Maybe  this  second  drink  will  assure  him  that 
the  river  may  yet  break  and  the  boats  come  in  with  flour 
enough  and  to  spare ;  then  he  will  ask  the  house  to  drink. 
The  bar  grows  more  and  more  crowded  as  the  night  turns 
toward  morning. 

Except  a  free-and-easy  theater,  a  dance  hall,  and  the 
gambling  halls  which  are  combined  with  saloons,  there  is 
nowhere  to  go — no  places  of  amusement,  I  might  be  per 
mitted  to  remark.  I  bought  a  Seattle  paper  dated  August 
28  for  50  cents,  which  after  reading  I  utilized  as  a  win 
dow-blind.  I  am  continually  interested  in  a  crowd  be 
fore  my  window  reading  the  latest. 

Some  of  us  are  beginning  letters  home.  We  find  the 
following  notice  posted  on  various  buildings  about  town: 
"John  Dallas  will  leave  Dawson  for  the  outside  upon  the 
first  breeze-up.  Letters  will  be  carried  for  the  sum  of  $1 
each."  The  Government  has  no  post-office  here,  and  I 
applied  for  a  possible  letter:  "All  mail  from  the  United 
States  to  Dawson  goes  on  down  the  river  to  Circle  City, 
the  first  American  post-office.  From  thence  it  may  be 
returned  here  when  opportunity  offers,  but  may  not  till 


spring." 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  ESQ.,  M.D. 


Samuel   Sawbones  was  picked  up  en  route  and  is  a 
passenger  on  the  fair  Bella.     He  brought  his  kit  with 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  59 

him,  brought  everything  but  what  is  really  necessary  here 
— flour  and  other  morsels  of  grub.  He  brought  pills  and 
pukes,  tablets  and  triturates,  powders  and  plasters,  oils 
and  extracts  by  the  quart  and  gross.  He  had  a  nice  new 
sign  with  gold  letters  ready  to  fling  to  the  breeze.  And 
I  think  he  had  assurance  and  conceit  to  hope  her  majesty's 
government  would  fire  a  salute  upon  the  momentous  oc 
casion  of  his  grand  announcement.  But  there  is  in  Samuel 
a  little  of  the  old-time  professional  courtesy — something 
little  cultivated  the  present  day — and  he  made  it  a  duty 
to  call  upon  the  authorities  and  the  located  doctors.  Cap 
tain  Constantine  told  him  there  is  a  law  of  the  North 
west  Territory  which  requires  a  physician  to  have  a 
license  to  practice  medicine.  He  consoled  our  friend, 
however,  by  saying  he  recognized  the  fact  that  most  of 
the  camp  are  Americans;  that  it  is  unusual  to  enforce 
Dominion  laws  strictly  in  such  unsettled  mining  camps; 
and  that  with  the  power  invested  in  him  at  present  he 
would  not  enforce  this  law  until  pushed  to  it  by  the 
Canadian  physicians  appealing  to  the  home  government. 
Dr.  Wills,  military  physician  at  this  post,  greeted  Saw 
bones  kindly,  but  with  a  rather  bland  sardonic  grin  told 
him  in  brief  he  must  forego  the  pleasure  of  associating 
with  Canadian  doctors  in  practicing  the  healing  art  on 
the  Klondike.  Recovering  from  the  shock,  Samuel  Saw 
bones  took  occasion  to  talk  back: 

"We  knew  nothing  of  this  law  before  coming  here, 
and  for  us  now  to  go  to  Calgary  to  stand  examinations 
for  license  is  a  matter  of  a  season  gone  and  an  immense 
expense.  It  is  virtually  being  kicked  out.  Besides,  under 
the  circumstances  we  hope  for  the  usual  courtesies  ac 
corded  new  mining  camps,  that  of  self-government/' 

"Yes,  yes,"  says  Dr.  Wills.  "But  here  are  three  of 
us — myself,  Dr.  Richardson,  and  Dr.  Norway — who  have 


60  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

permits,  and  we  can  fully  attend  to  all  the  sickness  that 
is  or  may  be  prevailing.  Of  course  it  is  hard  on  you 
and  any  other  American,  but  it  is  our  right,  and  we 
propose  accepting  the  bounties  of  the  situation." 

Old  Sawbones,  who  had  seen  millions  in  it  going  up 
the  street,  saw  as  he  trudged  down  a  dip  candle  warming 
the  stove  and  Iceland  moss  soup  in  lieu  of  the  compound 
vegetable  heretofore  preliminary  to  his  bacon  and  beans. 
His  gilt-lettered  shingle,  he  says,  he  can  use  patching  up 
the  window,  but  the  drugs — he  dare  not  throw  physic  to 
the  dogs  here  on  the  Yukon,  as  dogs  may  be  the  staff  of 
life  ere  spring.  Samuel  Sawbones,  M.D.,  a  good  subject 
of  the  great  and  glorious  United  States,  now  a  mendi 
cant  under  her  majesty's  flag,  not  knowing  where  to 
lay  his  head  nor  how  to  turn  an  honest  penny,  has  scores 
of  duplicates  in  this  rustle  for  millions  on  the  Klondike. 

October  7.  The  sun  the  past  few  days  shines  upon  us  as 
brightly  as  it  does  outside,  but  it  does  not  warm  us  equally 
well.    Every  morning  a  great  crowd  is  massed  before  each 
trading  company  store,  all  beseeching  an  order  of  goods, 
all  there  are  for  orders  taken  and  paid  for  early  in  the 
season.     It  is  getting  time  for  miners  to  be  off  and  at 
work.     Each  likewise  wishes  to  settle  the  pending  dif 
ficulty  or  horror,  "Will  I  have  enough  to  see  me  through  ?" 
The  weather  has  warmed  up  and  the  river  is  clearing  of 
ice,  and  there  is  dawning  a  little  hope  that  two  boats  now 
loaded  at  Fort  Yukon  may  come  up.    However,  two  boat 
loads  of  provisions  will  only  lessen  the  number  of  exits 
which  are  preparing  for  the  first  substantial  ice.     The 
situation  of  the  present  exposes  the  craft  of  the  human 
kind.    Now  are  beginning  to  come  forth  the  inhuman  kind 
from  their  hidden  caches  with  supplies  to  sell  at  the  fab 
ulous  prices  reached.     It  appears  that  these  made  hay 
while  the  sun  shone,  which  was  nearly  twenty-four  hours 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.D.  61 

every  day  during  the  summer,  and  now  have  great  stacks 
stored  away  for  the  starving  poor — of  course  at  their 
own  prices.  Even  while  the  mosquito  was  stealing  their 
thrifty  black  blood  they  did  not  rest  from  their  labor, 
and  it  is  predicted  there  is  actually  enough  food  in  Daw- 
son  if  distributed  as  it  should  be. 

Our  quarters  being  a  most  prominent  one  in  Dawson 
brings  us  many  callers.  An  attorney  wants  a  window 
and  corner  for  an  office;  an  optician  wants  the  best  win 
dow  in  the  house  to  expose  his  spectacles;  a  watchmaker 
offers  $100  per  month  for  a  room;  so  although  the  busi 
ness  generally  is  stagnant,  we  see  no  lack  in  variety.  One 
business  house  has  a  sign:  "General  merchandise,  hard 
ware,  drugs."  I  looked  into  the  drug  department  and 
found  quinine,  salts,  iodide  of  potash,  and  some  plasters, 
constituting  his  whole  stock.  There  is  no  drug  store  in 
Dawson,  but  I  hear  of  one  or  more  stranded  on  the  way 
which  expect  to  get  here  for  the  spring  trade.  I  hope  so, 
for  it  is  so  refreshing  to  drop  into  a  drug  store  for  a 
whiff  of  pure  drugs  and  medicines  when  one  is  choked 
up  with  microbes  from  uncleaned  streets  and  undrained 
swamps.  Is  there  an  undertaker  here?  I  do  not  know; 
only  the  indications  are  that  he  will  not  thrive.  The  re 
ports  outside  of  the  many  deaths  on  the  Klondike  have 
been  not  only  exaggerated,  but  in  chief  false;  only  a  few 
people  have  died  since  the  Klondike  has  been  discovered. 
A  man  is  reported  in  the  hospital  from  being  shot  while 
robbing  a  cache.  It  is  a  lamentable  fact  that  the  latch- 
string  must  not  hang  out  in  Dawson  unless  the  pro 
prietor  is  inside;  it  is  lamentable  likewise  that  we  have 
not  a  vigilante  organization.  Want  makes  thieves  of 
us  all.  The  mounted  police  are  not  effective  in  protect 
ing  property,  and  I  doubt  if  they  have  any  desire  to 
burden  themselves  with  an  effort.  To-day  a  cache  was 


62  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

robbed  of  1,200  pounds  of  grub  and  no  clew  or  any  ef 
fort  at  a  clew.  The  police,  so  far  as  my  observation 
goes,  are  only  a  success  in  arresting  drunks  and  keeping 
order  in  the  saloons. 

The  only  news  medium  we  have  is  the  old-lady  facility 
of  mouth  to  mouth.  All  business  is  posted  in  written 
form  upon  the  front  of  business  houses — lost,  astray, 
wants,  meetings,  individual  grievances,  locations,  etc.  For 
want  of  news  we  sit  in  contemplation.  If  the  climate  on 
the  Yukon  is  so  glorious  as  is  being  talked,  we  will  want 
our  old  bones  to  lie  here;  yet,  again,  if  the  mosquitoes 
and  gnats  are  as  bad  as  pictured,  then  will  we  not  have  to 
spend  our  old  age  fighting  these  pests  ? 

All  kinds  of  mechanics,  with  professional  and  business 
men,  are  here,  and  their  first  impulse  is  to  jump  their 
legitimate  calling  and  fly  to  the  diggings  to  bag  gold 
rather  than  to  earn  it.  Contemplating  the  possibilities 
of  this  is  about  the  pleasantest  of  our  pastime.  Going  on 
the  street  and  viewing  the  signs  still  hanging — the  Del- 
monico,  the  Metropole,  the  Klondike — makes  one's  mouth 
water,  but  the  empty  tables  recall  one  to  his  sense  of  the 
emptiness  of  many  stories  floating  about  and  quench  his 
enthusiasm.  We  find  several  of  the  hotels  open,  but  on 
the  European  plan — find  your  own  blankets,  brew  your 
coffee,  and  make  your  slapjack  on  the  hotel  stove,  and 
pay  $3  per  night. 

October  8.  The  river  is  comparatively  free  of  ice  to 
day  and  boats  might  come  in  with  food  supplies,  but  I 
fear  the  captains,  from  my  observations,  will  exert  them 
selves  more  toward  furnishing  their  own  winter's  lux 
uries  than  toward  relieving  the  starving  Klondikers.  At 
Fort  Yukon,  400  miles  below,  is  a  big  supply  of  sub- 
stantials,  but  further  on  and  down  at  St.  Michaels  the  best 
of  foods  as  well  as  liquids  are  stored,  and  I  will  wager 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  63 

no  boat  will  return  to  us,  but  will  seek  winter  quarters  at 
these  congenial  points. 

The  strike  is  still  on.  The  miner  can  have  his  choice 
of  working  for  wages,  working  a  lay,  or  prospecting  for 
himself;  therefore  he  will  not  have  wages  come  down. 
The  bonanza  kings  cannot  starve  him  out — only  the  trad 
ing  companies  can  do  that.  Men  are  considering  the 
alternatives  of  going  out  on  the  first  ice  and  of  possible 
hunger  here. 

"Can  I  make  you  a  trade  for  a  door  lock,  sir?"  And 
a  little  man  with  a  big  gunny  sack  popped  his  head  in 
our  door.  "Will  give  ten  candles  for  any  old  thing  of 
a  lock." 

We  wanted  ten  candles,  but  had  no  door  lock.  Another 
cache  was  robbed  last  night.  A  box  of  candles  to-day  is 
worth  $100,  yet  the  light  of  ten  candles  will  not  let  us  see 
any  gain  in  robbing  our  own  door  of  its  lock — virtually 
robbing  our  cache.  No  oil  in  the  market  and  not  much  in 
the  town.  To  the  miner  candles  are  as  serious  a  want 
as  grub. 

October  10.  A  raft  of  fresh  beef  has  just  landed, 
about  30  head,  and  is  selling  at  from  $1  to  $1.25  per 
pound.  They  were  driven  over  the  pass  and  held  on  the 
upper  river  until  cold  weather  overtook  them,  then  killed, 
frozen,  and  shipped.  It  is  calculated  in  all  that  200  head 
of  cattle  and  800  sheep  will  have  reached  Dawson  before 
navigation  from  the  head  closes.  Horseflesh  is  advertised 
to-day  at  25  cents  for  dog  feed.  I  am  not  sure  that 
some  one  or  more  may  not  be  laying  in  this  dog  feed  as  a 
reserve  supply  for  the  dogs'  master. 

A  prominent  New  York  expert  in  the  interest  of  out 
side  parties  dropped  in  with  the  following  remark:  "This 
country  is  not  as  big  as  represented.  There  is  no  room  for 
the  thousands  of  people  pouring  in,  no  business,  no  de- 


64  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

mand  for  them."  A  little  later  another  mining  expert, 
just  as  prominent,  seated  himself  on  my  best  stool  with 
this  good  word:  "I  am  just  down  from  the  mines.  It 
is  the  biggest  country  any  of  us  have  ever  seen.  I  have 
been  around  the  world  and  mined  in  many  places,  but 
this  far  surpasses  them  all;  yes,  a  great  gold  country 
which  bewilders  us/' 

Almost  daily  we  run  into  a  batch  of  men  and  find  it  a 
"miners'  meeting."  They  discuss  the  strike  and  all  other 
matters  they  think  pertain  to  their  business — very  often 
things  they  know  nothing  about. 

All  kinds  of  meetings  are  popular  and  draw  a  crowd. 
There  are  no  halls,  schoolhouses,  or  places  for  a  meet 
ing,  therefore  we  meet  in  any  nook  Mr.  President  may 
appoint.  To-day  there  was  a  large  meeting  in  the  chief 
dance  hall.  All  the  girls  were  piled  away  behind  the 
bar  and  Mr.  0.  Sullivan  occupied  the  speaker's  stand.  He 
was  offering  to  this  community  his  big  scow,  just  arrived 
from  head  waters;  he  was  offering  it  to  the  throng  for 
transportation  out  of  this  camp.  He  offers  scow  and 
crew  for  a  run  down  to  American  territory,  where  is 
stored  boat-loads  of  grub;  to  the  opulent  who  furnish 
their  own  blankets  at  a  rate  of  $30  per  head,  the  indigent 
free.  Mr.  0.  Sullivan  is  an  old-timer  on  the  Yukon  and 
knows  the  needs  of  the  country.  He  brought  this  scow 
in  loaded  with  an  assortment  of  the  best  whiskies,  but  is 
a  little  startled  upon  arrival  at  the  prejudice  existing 
against  wet  goods  in  favor  of  solid  food  and  substantials. 

Captain  Hansen,  of  the  A.  C.  Company,  has  made  a 
little  speech  advocating  Mr.  0.  Sullivan's  scheme,  not 
that  he  admires  the  gentleman's  thrifty  generosity  but  he 
declares  there  is  little  possibility  of  any  further  supplies 
coming  into  Dawson,  and  it  will  be  wise  for  the  unpro 
vided  to  go  down  where  supplies  are  stored.  Our  chari- 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.D.  65 

table  friend  0.  Sullivan  has  another  scow  on  the  upper 
Yukon  with  a  cargo  of  eggs  and  girls.  They  seem  to  have 
parted  cable  with  the  whisky  barge,  but  may  be  expected 
any  day. 

Just  now  one  of  our  loafers  resurrected  from  the  bot 
tom  pocket  of  his  parkee  five  little  gold  sacks.  His  story 
is  this :  "My  pard  had  these  all  full  of  dust.  In  one  night 
he  lost  one,  two — all  five  at  the  faro  table.  Then  he  bor 
rowed  $5  from  me,  for  which  he  gave  these  as  security." 
No  comments  were  passed  on  his  fool  partner.  Here  his 
reputation,  his  character,  and  his  executive  ability  will 
not  suffer.  It  is  such  enterprise,  as  much  as  anything  else, 
that  makes  Klondike  and  other  mining  camps.  This  man 
will  carefully  step  across  the  swamps  from  one  nigger- 
head  to  another,  over  hills  and  across  gulches  with  his 
bed  and  board,  serving  under  the  load  of  a  packing  jenny ; 
and  after  many  days  one,  two — all  five  little  sacks  will  be 
refilled  and  brought  to  town  to  replenish — to  supply  the 
motive  power  of  this  end  of  the  camp.  The  proprietors 
of  the  gambling  dens  seldom  hoard  the  dust  and  the  trad 
ing  companies  are  the  final  holders.  They  enrich  the  out 
side  world  with  it  in  exchange  for  the  good  things  we 
need  here.  Our  five  little  buckskin  bags  do  not  repre 
sent  millions,  but  they  multiply  into  millions. 

October  12.  The  high  prices  have  not  dropped  out 
of  provisions  yet;  buildings  and  rents  keep  steady;  wood 
has  an  upward  tendency  at  $30  per  cord;  the  market  in 
general  tends  upward,  and  one  is  obliged  to  deal  with 
speculators,  the  stores  being  about  finished.  Troubles 
lend  one's  ears  to  others'  troubles ;  frights  send  one  poking 
about  after  others  possibly  lurking.  We  are  regaled  with 
the  possible  pestilences  awaiting  Dawson.  The  springs 
freeze  up  in  winter  and  the  spring  opens  up  only  murky 
water  in  the  Yukon.  There  is  no  possible  drainage  for 


CG  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

the  town.  The  police  government  exercises  no  sanitary 
])recautions  and  we  are  theatened  (by  our  relators)  witli 
prolific  pestiferous  diseases  the  coming  spring.  The 
Canadian  doctors  will  have  a  picnic — will  clean  up  a  big 
fortune  in  a  little  time  and  from  a  doubtful  capital.  Our 
friend  Samuel  Sawbones,  M.D.,  not  being  in  it,  will  re 
flect  upon  each  funeral  pile,  and  filled  with  envy  will  say 
"I  told  you  so,"  and  heap  his  benedictions  upon  the 
little  swelled  heads  and  big  puffy  bags  of  the  aforemen 
tioned  presumptuous,  greedy  pack — these  conceited  wise 
acres,  envious  and  afraid  of  the  skill  and  competition 
of  American  doctors. 

Whilst  writing  a  miner  dropped  in  from  the  Eldorado 
diggings.  He  was  in  ill-humor  and  seemed  ill-natured. 
He  came  here  from  police  headquarters.  His  fist  is  bun 
dled  up  in  a  bandanna  handkerchief  and  he  says  it  car 
ries  the  footprints  of  a  man's  jaw  bone.  Was  some  victim 
crying  bread  to  him,  and  in  this  way  he  shut  him  up? 
Well,  the  incident  has  no  connection  with  his  visit  to  the 
police;  it  only  shows  he  is  a  bad  man.  Two  days  ago  he 
returned  to  his  home  in  Eldorado  and  found  his  cache 
clean  and  clear  of  everything  edible.  He  was  here  to-day 
after  a  search-warrant.  The  police  authorities  did  not  give 
him  one;  they  informed  him,  he  says,  it  would  not  be 
good  Canadian  law.  My  own  reason  is  they  do  not  want 
to  be  burdened  with  the  thief.  He  was  wrathy  as  if  be 
ing  lashed  by  the  lion's  tail.  "We,  the  miners,  will  get 
out  a  search-warrant  of  our  own;  we  will  make  an  ex 
ample  of  the  wretch."  It  is  to  be  devoutly  wished  they 
may.  Things  have  come  to  such  a  pass  that  one  cannot 
turn  his  head  to  watch  his  right  hand  but  that  his  left 
will  be  robbed.  The  vigilantes  were  good  cure — good 
physic  in  the  old  Montana  days,  and  I  think  will  be  good 


SAMUEL  SA  WBONES,  M.  D.  67 

medicine  in  these  days  of  sugar  pills  and  tablet  tritu 
rates. 

October  16.  At  our  mess  meeting  to-day  it  was 
"Resolved,  that  under  the  present  strait  of  the  bacon  and 
bean  market  we  now  and  hereafter  confine  ourselves  to 
two  meals  daily;  and  whereas,  the  run  on  candles  and 
oil  has  set  their  price  quite  out  of  sight,  be  it  further 
resolved,  that  ordinary  gossip  and  simple  story-telling 
must  be  conducted  under  cover  of  darkness,  and  at  no  time 
must  more  than  one  candle  be  burned  save  in  sickness  or 
death."  In  the  gloom  and  depression  of  one  feeble  sick 
ly  tallow  candle  I  am  now  recording  the  above  resolu 
tions.  As  half  the  story  is  in  the  telling,  the  gesture,  the 
eye  of  the  teller — no  one  wants  to  hear  a  story  to-night. 

The  boats  do  not  come  in,  but  we  do  not  quit  looking 
for  them.  We  have  replaced  the  card  above  the  door, 
"There's  no  place  like  home,"  by  this  one:  "Eat,  drink, 
and  be  merry."  We  do  not  want  to  think  about  home 
too  much,  but  rather  incline  to  bravado  to  keep  our 
courage  up. 

I  resurrected  the  following  grub  bill,  the  prevailing 
prices  of  the  past  summer  and  the  prices  of  to-day  had 
the  boats  all  come  in:  1  case  catchup,  $24;  8  lemons, 
$1.50;  25  pounds  apricots,  $8.75;  20  pounds  lard,  $6; 
60  pounds  salt,  $6;  1  case  condensed  milk,  $24;  249 
pounds  ham,  $112;  1  keg  pickles,  $5;  2J  pounds  pepper, 
$2.50;  1  case  rolled  oats,  $18;  6  cans,  baking  powder, 
$4.50;  1  case  apples,  $18;  10  pounds  coffee,  $5;  1  pound 
butter,  $59. 

If  only  the  boats  would  come  in,  we  should  then  get 
rid  of  that  ghost  that  haunts  us  to  say:  "Better  take  that 
seven-hundred-mile  trip  out  over  the  ice  the  first  freeze- 
up."  The  millions  on  the  Klondike,  too,  haunt  us,  and 
we  long  to  be  part  owners  of  the  fifty  tons  of  gold  to  be 


68  TEE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

shipped  home  next  summer.  We  are  inclined  to  look  the 
threatened  famine  in  the  face,  although  we  know  it  is 
possible  for  it  to  get  the  best  of  us  in  its  ghastly  return 
stare.  Our  mess  is  organizing  a  relief  expedition — in 
plain  words,  are  outfitting  for  a  moose  hunt.  Ye  mighty 
hunter  of  the  Kockies  and  of  the  plains,  drum  a  little 
melody  of  envy  on  your  breakfast-table  and  remark :  "Oh, 
the  glories  of  this  moose  chase  must  be  worth  a  run  right 
into  the  jaws  of  hunger!"  Well,  we  will  outfit,  and  first 
with  clothing  of  which  the  necessaries  might  make  us 
quite  oblivious  to  the  kicks  of  the  most  villainous  foot 
ball  team;  then  must  roll  our  blankets,  pack  our  stove, 
tent,  axe,  cooking  utensils,  and  grub.  Now  trot  out,  you 
dead  ox,  and  we  will  load.  Oh !  oh !  oh !  Here  is  where 
the  fun  drops  out.  We  must  load  ourselves  fifty  pounds 
to  the  man,  and  with  this,  trudging  through  the  snow  and 
over  ranges,  the  novelty  will  remain,  but  the  glories  and 
excitements  of  moose-hunting  quite  die  out.  We  call  it 
then  not  moose-hunting,  but  a  relief  party.  It  is  remarked 
to  me:  "Should  you  kill  a  moose  of,  say,  1,000  pounds, 
what  would  you  do  with  it?"  That  has  not  before  oc 
curred  to  me.  Possibly  we  would  sit  down  and  eat  of  it 
until  it  dwindled  away  to  a  portable  package;  then  each 
mighty  hunter  may  tug  at  the  toboggan  and  reach  camp 
with  the  shadow  of  a  moose. 

The  query  of  cold  occupies  us  with  that  of  hunger, 
though  it  does  not  frighten  us.  A  fifty-dollar  Yukon 
stove  is  one  item  in  barring  out  cold.  Then  we  look  well 
to  the  moss  chinking  of  our  logs.  We  have  no  mud,  there 
fore  pack  between  logs  and  every  possible  air-hole  with 
the  moss  found  in  abundance.  Old-timers  say  a  little 
later  we  shall  mix  snow  and  water  and  apply  the  slush 
to  the  outside,  and  this  will  prove  a  valuable  protection 
for  the  six  months  of  severe  cold.  People  here  in  the 


SAMUEL  8A  WBONES,  M.  D.  69 

early  season  cut  wood,  which  is  in  plenty  up  the  river, 
and  floated  it  down  on  rafts  to  Dawson.  The  banks  are 
lined  with  it,  and  there  seems  no  dearth  of  it,  only  it  is 
$30  per  cord,  with  an  upward  tendency.  We  have  as 
yet  not  experienced  severe  cold  and  can  only  speculate 
what  it  may  be. 

October  24.  The  several  Indian  bands  not  too  far  up 
and  down  the  Yukon  yearly  bivouacked  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Trondik  to  catch  salmon  and  hunt.  One  of  several 
boomers,  who,  as  are  all  boomers,  was  trained  to  hate 
legitimate  work,  looked  upon  this  location  with  desire. 
One  Ladeau  squatted  right  here  on  the  north  side,  now 
the  town  site  of  Dawson.  Then  he  looked  with  envy 
upon  Sixty  Mile  up  the  river  and  Forty  Mile  down  the 
river,  and  he  said:  "We  must  draw  upon  those  pros 
perous  camps  and  build  us  up  here."  They  salted  the 
bars  up  the  stream  and  set  the  Indians  to  nosing  about 
for  gold.  Finally  a  squaw  up  Bonanza  Creek  actually 
discovered  gold  and  imparted  the  discovery  to  Siwash 
George,  her  lord  and  master.  George,  like  a  good  son, 
had  adopted  the  customs  along  with  the  tribe;  he  gam 
bled  away  his  gold  and  drank  up  his  furs  as  fast  as 
his  squaw  could  furnish  them.  He  got  away  down  to 
Circle  City  in  one  of  his  trading  boats,  and  in  a  con 
fidential  drunk  gave  away  this  find  up  Bonanza.  His 
very  appreciative  audience  at  Circle,  300  miles  down 
the  Yukon,  immediately  deserted  the  bar  over  which  they 
gleaned  the  news  for  the  bars  on  the  Bonanza,  but  not 
familiar  with  deep  diggings  their  stampede  was  a  failure. 

A  little  later  Siwash  George  vouched  for  Mrs.  George's 
find  by  an  exhibit  of  a  sack  of  fine  nuggets  at  the  gaming 
tables  of  Forty  Mile  and  Circle.  There  was  a  bigger 
stampede,  yet  it  was  in  fact  a  second  failure.  In  truth, 
the  two  stampedes  were  not  the  miners  of  the  country, 


70  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

but  the  coiners  of  gold.  What  I  mean  is,  after  the 
miner  delves  and  digs  the  gold  these  old-timers,  his  ac 
companiment  in  the  country,  deduct  it  from  his  sack  in 
a  thousand-and-one  ways  and  set  it  afloat  among  them 
selves.  This,  you  will  understand,  by  the  aid  of  saloons, 
dancing  halls,  theaters,  faro  tables,  gambling,  wicked  girls, 
etc.  Of  course  they  make  a  failure  of  anything  which 
needs  pick  and  shovel.  In  August  was  the  first  stampede, 
but  now  about  January,  1897,  started  the  third  stampede 
to  the  Klondike,  and  this  one  stayed.  It  went  from  Circle 
City  in  great  style.  Circle's  most  magnificent  woman  with 
gorgeous  dog  teams  headed  the  procession.  The  miners 
of  the  Circle  or  Birch  Creek  district  were  wintering  and 
joined  the  stampede,  giving  it  backbone.  Only  three  souls 
of  3,000  remained  in  Circle,  and  none  returned  to  tell  the 
tale.  Thus  the  Klondike  was  started  on  its  record  as  a 
world-beater.  The  American  in  Siwash  rose  superior  to 
his  adopted  life,  and  he  helped  all  his  uncles  and  aunts 
and  cousins  of  his  wife  in  the  tribe  to  good  claims,  and 
he  with  some  of  them  are  still  the  happy  owners.  Bonanza 
Creek  empties  into  the  Klondike  three  miles  from  its 
mouth.  Twelve  miles  up  Bonanza  was  Discovery  Claim. 
Very  soon  all  the  Bonanza  was  located,  and  as  the  tail 
ended  the  stampede  came  in,  the  drones,  the  sluggards, 
and  the  pot  rattlers  of  the  camp  had  nowhere  to  go. 
Above  Discovery  one  mile  a  tributary  enters  Eldorado 
Creek.  Here  these  disappointed  stampeders,  in  despair 
at  not  having  a  claim,  located.  Lo  and  behold,  this 
Eldorado  loomed  up  the  head  center  of  all  this  mining 
district  and  holds  its  precedent  to  this  day.  It  is  esti 
mated  that  two-thirds  of  last  year's  gold  output  was 
Eldorado  gold,  and  this  year  it  will  hold  the  same  ratio. 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  2).  ?1 

MISSIONARIES. 

If  you  get  there  before  I  do,  look  out  for  me,  Fm  com 
ing  too.  Sure  enough,  the  indomitable  Methodist  who  is 
ever  singing  the  above  has  come.  He  has  had  one  ser 
vice,  has  a  church,  with  $700  paid,  as  per  announcement, 
furnished  with  stumps  and  slabs  as  pews,  and  a  whole 
catalogue  of  church  work  organized  and  in  operation.  The 
text  of  to-day  was :  "Bear  ye  one  another's  burden."  The 
usual  collection  followed  this  admonition:  "Now  put  in 
coin  if  you  have  it;  if  not,  just  spill  into  the  plate  some 
of  your  dust ;  if  broke,  why,  then,  bring  us  a  few  ounces  of 
flour  or  any  canned  goods."  The  regular  announcements 
were  a  little  unique  even  to  we  old  prospectors.  "Class 
meeting  this  afternoon ;  regular  service  this  evening.  For 
the  meeting  to-night  I  would  request  each  of  you  to  blow 
out  the  candle  you  may  be  using,  wrap  it  up,  and  bring 
it  along.  You  may  be  at  liberty  to  take  home  with  you 
what  may  be  left.  To-morrow  morning  all  good  brethren 
will  please  meet  me  at  the  church  with  axes,  and  we  to 
gether  will  make  a  little  excursion  up  the  hillside  for  the 
purpose  of  wooding  the  church  for  the  winter;  Wednes 
day  evening  we  will  meet  to  organize  our  book  exchange 
and  library.  All  bring  your  books  and  we  will  exchange 
one  with  the  other.  Dr.  McCune,  an  excellent  physician 
connected  with  this  mission,  will  be  pleased  to  extend  his 
service  to  any  sick,  free  to  those  who  are  unable  to  pay." 
From  the  start  this  mission  is  making  we  can  bet  it  will 
not  starve  out  this  winter.  I  believe  it  is  the  right  thing 
— may  be,  however,  in  the  wrong  place. 

P.  S.— By  the  St.  George !  This  was  not  a  Methodist 
meeting  at  all,  but  a  Presbyterian  mission.  Well,  the 
"walk  and  conversation"  was  so  Methodist  and  so  un- 
Presbyterian  that  I  must  be  pardoned  for  the  mistake. 


72  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

Even  the  last  closing  act  was  life-like  Methodist;  the 
preacher,  resting  his  glance  upon  Sister  Green,  the  only 
woman  present,  as  if  wishing  to  say  "Pray  for  us,"  but 
passing  on  said:  "Brother  Stephen  Furleny,  please  lead 
us  in  prayer/' 

VIGILANTES. 

"It  is  something  remarkable  the  way  you  old-timers 
applaud  the  old  vigilantes'  organization,  the  way  you  old 
fool  miners  fall  down  and  worship  the  dead  and  buried, 
mourn  over  what  has  not  even  left  footprints  in  the  dust 
of  time.  But  you  old  tramps  never  will  tire  of  has-beens, 
and  the  trails  of  the  Rockies,  your  stories  of  the  latch- 
strings  hanging  out,  and  how  you  hanged  Henry  Plum- 
mer  for  robbing  sluice-boxes.  Now,  let  up  on  it !" 

"Well,  pard,  let  me  have  just  this  little  bit  of  back  talk 
and  I  will  stick  to  the  pork  and  beans  of  this  country. 
My  old  bones  are  sort  o'  stiffening  of  -late,  and  I  took 
the  long,  easy  route,  the  Behring  Sea  trail,  to  reach  this 
camp.  The  old  sailing  tub  Cleveland  had  on  board  163 
souls — embryo  tic  miners  possibly,  the  same  manner  of  men 
who  pass  muster  for  honesty  outside.  Well,  out  only  a 
few  days  and  we  began  losing  our  tobacco,  pipes,  papers 
and  books.  On  board  were  a  captain  and  lieutenant  of 
the  United  States  regular  army,  a  United  States  marshal 
for  Alaska  with  three  assistants,  and  the  officers  of  the 
boat  with  arbitrary  powers.  Stealing  went  on — pillows, 
shirts,  blankets,  anything,  everything,  and  all  the  power 
aboard  seemed  helpless.  I  actually  knew  poker  chips  that 
could  not  be  won  to  be  stolen  off  the  board.  At  Fort 
Yukon  three  barrels  of  bonded  whisky  were  stolen  from 
the  warehouse  right  out  between  the  legs  of  a  United 
States  customs  officer  sitting  there,  and  nothing  but  the 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  73 

hoops  and  staves  were  ever  discovered.  Here  at  Dawson 
matters  grow  worse  from  day  to  day.  The  officer  of  the 
mounted  police  seems  a  clever  and  willing  guardian,  yet 
stealing  grows  greater  and  bolder,  whole  caches  are  robbed, 
and  one  never  knows  how  much  petty  thieving.  No 
doubt  you  and  I  will  have  to  guard  our  sluice-boxes  with 
shotguns  when  we  clean  up.  The  mounted  police  are  ever 
walking — strutting — up  and  down  the  street,  but  they 
never  catch  a  thief,  they  never  hang  a  rustler.  They  may 
be  good  soldiers,  on  the  principle  that  everything  must 
be  good  for  something,  but  soldiers  are  no  good  in  a 
mining  camp  as  peace  officers  are  never  any  good  on  a 
mining  stampede.  This  is  everything  in  a  nutshell,  and 
you  cannot  crack  it.  I  need  not  repeat  the  situation  down 
in  Montana,  Colorado,  and  California  when  the  vigilantes 
ruled  supreme.  You  know  the  latch-string  was  perfectly 
safe  hanging  out;  that  our  dust  was  secure  in  a  tin  box 
within  our  cabins ;  we  never  lost  a  cracker  from  our  packs ; 
that  we  camped  on  the  trail  and  did  not  have  to  padlock 
our  gunny  sacks  to  our  feet  to  hold  them  safe.  You 
latter-day  saints  may  preach  about  mounted  police  and 
the  British  lion's  protectorate,  but  they  never  gave  us 
back  this  day  our  daily  bread  that  was  sure  to  have  been 
stolen  yesterday  unless  being  guarded  with  a  shotgun; 
now  I  let  up  on  you/' 

THE    TRAIL. 

Down  in  Montana  it  used  to  be  the  pride  of  society 
— of  the  diggings — that  there  had  gone  out,  spread  worll« 
wide,  the  saying:  "The  latch-string  always  hangs  out/' 
Alas!  that  we  may  not  say  as  much  for  the  Klondike! 
There  the  big-hearted,  generous-handed  prospectors  marie 
"camping  on  the  trail"  an  inspiration  rather  than  a  stare 


74  TEE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

into  the  cold  face  of  helplessness.  The  admixture  of 
nationalities  makes  it  doubtful  if  even  plenty  of  grub  will 
correct  the  present  selfishness  of  the  camp. 

The  trail  in  itself  is  a  different  proposition  here  from 
elsewhere.  At  the  present  time  the  muckluck  is  the  most 
popular  footgear.  The  muckluck  is  a  rawhide  boot  of 
sealskin,  with  or  without  hair  on.  It  will  stand  water, 
if  well  oiled,  without  leaking;  is  very  light,  and  one  can 
wear  innumerable  socks  to  keep  warm.  Later,  as  the 
winter  precludes  any  water  on  the  trail  from  thawing  or 
ice  breaks,  the  Indian  moccasin  of  moose  skin  mostly 
takes  the  place  of  the  muckluck.  Persons  wear  one,  two, 
three  pairs  of  woolen  socks  and  a  pair  of  thick  German 
socks  inside  the  moccasins,  and  this  protects  a  foot  from 
all  sorts  of  cold.  One  is  safe  from  frost  unless  by  chance 
he  gets  wet.  His  clothing  is  very  soft,  thick,  light  wool 
ens;  a  parkee,  much  like  a  Chinaman's  outside  shirt, 
and  of  ticking  or  drilling,  is  popular  wear  because  very 
light  and  a  great  bar  to  cold  by  virtue  of  affording  a 
wind-break.  The  only  fur  is  the  Yukon  cap,  a  thing 
sui  generis.  Summer  trails  are  the  trying  ones.  Gum 
boots  are  the  proper  resort,  but  they  have  many  draw 
backs:  they  are  quite  too  heavy  for  a  long  tramp  and 
too  warm;  they  often  overflow  or  get  overflowed  with 
water  and  mud,  which  makes  them  quite  unnavigable.  A 
new  summer  trail  or  an  old  one  worn  deep  in  mud  is 
best  navigated  in  a  pair  of  light  shoes,  having  in  view 
the  procedure  of  wading  through  water  and  mud,  getting 
thoroughly  saturated,  and  at  the  end  changing  for  dry 
stockings.  Trails  are  through  swamps,  jumps  from  nig 
ger-head  to  nigger-head,  over  fallen  trees,  snags,  over 
mountains.  Nowhere  is  there  a  free  spurt  until  a  trail 
is  broken  by  use.  "On  the  trail"  here  is  a  different  prop 
osition  from  elsewhere  because  of  the  distances  between 


SAMUEL  8A  WBONES,  M.  D.  75 

supply  points.  In  fact,  there  are  no  supply  depots  other 
than  this  one  at  Dawson,  and  the  simplest  possible  stam 
pede  or  business  requires  a  big  load — from  50  to  100 
pounds  is  the  common  pack  on  the  Bonanza  trail.  We 
may  meet  a  man  and  dog  in  sled  with  perhaps  30C 
pounds.  I  saw  some  veritable  beasts  of  burden  among 
my  fellow-men,  they  sledding  individually  300  pounds. 
As  yet  snow  is  limited  and  sledding  is  very  poor,  so  that 
300  pounds  is  almost  an  ox's  load.  On  my  trip  up  the 
Klondike  I  met  many  and  all  sorts  of  packers  and  packs, 
men  fagged,  peering  straight  ahead,  mechanically  moving, 
apparently  ready  to  drop,  but  never  dropping  until  their 
twenty  or  thirty  miles  are  made.  When  night  overtakes 
us  on  a  stampede  or  prospecting  tour  we  pitch  a  tent 
and  sleep  upon  pine  boughs.  Oh,  how  our  bones  do  ache ! 
We  dream  all  through  the  night  that  we  still  go  on;  the 
pack  is  breaking  every  bone  and  rending  every  muscle 
in  the  body;  maybe  we  dream  of  such  a  luxury  as  a 
latch-string,  but  never  that  it  lets  us  in  out  of  the  cold. 
October  20.  Well,  it  is  all  up  with  the  boats  and  down 
with  the  hoped-for  new  supplies.  The  river  is  making 
its  final  freeze-up;  we  are  inventorying  our  caches  to  de 
termine  the  fight  we  will  have  to  make  through  the  winter. 
Now  and  then  crops  out  the  discovery  of  a  big  cache — 
one  of  flour,  of  candles,  of  bacon — which  some  smart 
tradesman  corraled  during  the  summer  for  just  such 
emergency  as  this  happening  us;  yet  all  such  relief  is 
small  in  possibilities  for  continuing  us  through.  People 
are  training  to  two  meals  a  day;  many  are  devising  ways 
and  means  for  going  out.  The  outfitting  consists  in  a 
dog  team,  necessary  clothing,  and  blankets  and  grub  for 
men  and  dogs  for  forty  days. 


76  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

REINDEER. 

The  reindeer  hooped  up  in  harness,  bunched  up,  bent 
in  its  strains  at  a  load,  and  driven  by  a  runty  little  Lap 
lander,  presents  almost  a  comic  picture.     Yet  its  great 
good  points  must  obscure  such  a  view  and  make  us  ap 
plaud  its  nobility.     It  is  said  to  have  a  capacity  of  400 
pounds  per  100  miles  a  day  and  can  subsist  upon  the 
native  moss.     On  my  way  to  the  Klondike  I  interviewed 
Dr.  A.  N.  Kittleson,  in  charge  of  the  United  States  gov 
ernment  reindeer  ranch  which  is  situatel  at  Unilucklick, 
on  the  coast  of  Behring  Sea,  60  miles  north  of  St.  Mi 
chaels.     He  gave  me  the  following  statistics:     The  herd 
consists  of  1,500  head;   about  400  are  or  can  be  fitted  for 
work;  some  are  being  worked,  others  are  awaiting  the 
opportunity;  much  of  the  band  is  in  the  hands  of  the 
native  Indians  for  care — herding  and  training.    The  herd 
is  rapidly  increasing.     On  our  expedition  to  these  gold 
fields  we  had  the  association  of  two  very  agreeable  gov 
ernment  officials  sent  to  Alaska  as  emissaries  especially 
to  report  upon  its  conditions  and  its  possibilities.     The 
starvation  point  of  the  Klondike  was  fairly  presented  to 
them  and  they  appreciated  the  situation  with  the  necessity 
for  relief.     Here  is  a  most  opportune  test  case  for  the 
reindeer,  I  argued,  but,  argued  they:     "We  admit  the 
capaciy,  the  utility  of  the  reindeer;  we  agree  that  noth 
ing  would  approach  it  as  the  right  thing  in  the  right 
place  and  that  hundreds  of  people  might  be  saved  hun 
ger,  if  not  starvation;  yet  in  face  of  all  we  cannot  util 
ize  the  offering  at  present.     In  the  first  place,  a  messen 
ger  must  be   dispatched  to   Washington   for   authority; 
next,  the  authority  must  be  transmitted  to  the  ranch  on 
the  coast  of  Behring  Sea;  then  harness  must  be  fur 
nished,  the  deer  broken,  sleds  made.    All  this  will  be  a 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  77 

year's  enterprise  for  the  Government."  Poor  old  ship 
of  state,  looking  down  at  part  of  its  own  crew  drowning. 
What  a  happy  spectacle ! 

In  discussing  the  same  conditions  as  a  private  enter 
prise  the  following  outline  was  made  by  one  familiar 
with  the  surroundings:  "I  could  reach  St.  Michaels  in 
a  few  days  via  one  of  these  river  boats;  from  there,  by 
some  Indian  canoes.  I  could  within  a  week  be  at  work 
outfitting  on  the  deer  ranch,  and  quite  as  early  as  the 
ice  will  bear  be  on  my  way  to  Yukon  Eiver  points  where 
are  large  storages  of  grub.  In  very  nearly  a  month  from 
date  I  could  be  approaching  Dawson  with  relief."  This 
was  no  fancy  picture,  but  actual  computation  by  one  fa 
miliar  with  the  country  and  the  climate.  Our  two  kid- 
gloved  government  officials  no  doubt  will  report  the  feasi 
bility  of  this  plan  of  relief  next  summer  and  receive  in 
structions  for  next  winter's  emergencies. 

GRUBBING. 

"Sawbones,"  says  Captain  Healey,  manager  of  the  N. 
A.  T.  Company  at  Dawson,  "there  is  a  great  deal  of  sick 
ness  in  camp.  What  is  the  matter?" 

"No,  not  much — nothing  unusual." 

"No?  Well,  I  am  made  to  believe  there  is  a  big  lot 
ill.  Why,  every  man  who  comes  into  the  store  wants  a 
grub  stake  for  a  sick  brother  or  a  sick  pard  who  could 
not  leave  his  bed  to  personally  apply  for  a  few  necessary 
supplies.  So  you  think  it  is  not  serious — the  sickness, 
eh?  Yes,  I  see!  Any  scheme  to  get  an  extra  pound  of 
pork  and  beans." 

The  store  is  continually  full  of  beggars,  and  such  beg 
gars  as  you  never  see  elsewhere.  They  are  not  paupers. 
All  have  money  to  pay,  but  the  old  trading  companies 


78  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

hold  fast  to  their  old  prices  while  corner  prices  are  way 
up.  Of  these  beggars  one  class  are  made  liars  by  fear 
of  starving,  and  any  resort  that  furnishes  something  to 
eat  goes.  Another  lot  are  such  as  have  plenty,  but  who 
strive  to  beat  those  companies  out  of  grub  to  use  for 
speculation  on  the  side.  With  all  their  efforts  to  fill  only 
orders  for  such  who  must  and  ought  to  be  served  they 
continually  are  defrauded.  A  woman  with  children  will 
tie  them,  ragged  and  dirty,  to  her  apron-string  and  march 
in  before  Captain  Healey  and  force  out  a  combination  of 
tears  and  tales  of  woe ;  if  her  husband  is  a  better  solicitor 
he  heads  the  procession.  Some  adepts  at  disguise  may 
appear  in  the  various  invalid  characters  and  carry  on  a 
brisk  trade,  for  Captain  Healey  in  particular  cannot  look 
upon  suffering  if  he  can  mitigate  it.  Captain  Hansen, 
manager  of  the  A.  C.  Company,  keeps  well  out  of  reach 
of  the  besieging  mob,  and  though  he  has  some  gentlemen 
about  him,  he  has  enough  toughs  in  waiting  to  dispose 
of  those  whom  they  prefer  not  waiting  upon. 

I  was  witness  to  the  following  between  one  of  the  trad 
ing  companies  and  an  old-timer  who  came  after  his  win 
ter's  grub,  ordered  early  in  the  season,  but  which  %was 
only  filled  in  part  as  per  scene: 

"Fifty  pounds  flour."  "Oh,  dear,  only  fifty  pounds 

for  the  blessed  long "  "Check.  Forty  pounds  bacon." 

"Why,  it  won't  last  me  till  Thanksgiving "  "Check. 

Twenty  pounds  beans."  "It  will  not  more  than  fill  my 

pot "  "Check.  One  box  herring."  "And  that  little 

box  won't  make  the  pan "  "Check.  One  hundred 

pounds  sugar."  "Now,  if  my  batch  of  kids  were  up  here 

they  would  eat  all  that  sugar "  "Check.  Fifty 

pounds  dried  apples."  "There's  some  business  in  that, 

for  they  will  keep  one  filled  up  while "  "Check. 

Now,  there;  handle  that  flour  a  little  more  carefully. 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  79 

Don't  you  see  my  life  ooze  out  of  that  measly  porous 
sack?  And  there,  there  goes  a  bean;  pick  it  up.  That 
little  slab-sided  piece  of  bacon — why,  it  does  not  even 
make  a  shadow.  Yes,  give  me  that  red  pepper.  I  got 
som£  horse  meat  for  the  dogs,  and  I  may  have  to  fool  the 
dogs.  A  little  red  pepper  on  horse  meat  will  make  it  go 
down  just  as  readily  as  moose  meat.  Then  last  winter, 
when  my  pard  got  closed  in  on  Stewart  River,  he  said 
red  pepper  made  his  poor  mush,  his  Malamuth,  his  lone 
partner,  as  much  a  relish  as  canned  roast  beef  appears 
in  camp.  Yes,  I  may  have  to  keep  the  wolf  away  from 
the  door  by  virtue  of  this  red  pepper  and  my  poor  mush, 
though  he  is  half  wolf.  Wolf  in  the  stomach  is  better 
than  wolf  in  the  door." 

PROSPECTING. 

"Well,  Samuel,  my  boy,  back,  eh?  Struck  anything 
this  trip?  I  see  you  had  a  new  pard.  Yes,  quite  a 
stampede  from  the  Forks  over  to  Sulphur  yesterday.  A 
dollar  and  a  quarter  to  the  pan  was  reported,  and  every 
available  man  and  woman  rushed  off  in  a  struggle  for 
some  vacant  claim.  Sulphur  promises  to  be  a  diggings 
that  will  rival  Eldorado  and  Bonanza.  Yes,  I  will  post 
you  if  anything  very  big  occurs.  Will  pay  from  $100  to 
$1,000,  according  to  location." 

Dr.  Samuel  Sawbones  said  he  staked  on  a  pup  of  Ophir 
Gulch,  but  must  trust  to  luck  for  an  Eldorado. 

"Yes,"  continued  the  doctor,  "I  struck  a  new  pard. 
You  know  the  established  law  of  this  land.  Any  and 
every  partnership  formed  upon  coming  into  or  within 
the  boundary  of  Alaska  for  the  purpose  of  navigation, 
trading,  prospecting,  mining,  or  whatsoever,  invariably 
and  universally  dissolves  by  mutual  consent  within  sixty 


80  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

days  from  date.  Well,  this  my  last  partner  was  a  gen 
tleman  from  a  great  city  who  tacked  on  to  me  I  know 
not  from  what  cause,  but  I  felt  the  necessity  of  dissolu 
tion  and  at  the  same  time  held  it  due  to  him  to  proceed 
decently  and  in  order.  My  invariable  rule  to  break  the 
link  is  to  take  the  offender  out  prospecting.  Like  my 
celebrated  liniment,  it  is  never-failing. 

"Well,  we  had  easy  sledding  up  to  Forty  Four  Eldorado, 
when  we  began  the  trail  over  the  range.  This  is  two 
miles  to  the  top,  with  a  grade  of  nearly  ninety  degrees 
and  a  corresponding  slide  down  which  is  quite  as  burden 
some.  We  had  outfitted  for  a  big  route.  Down  Ophir 
12  miles  to  Indian  Kiver,  down  Indian  30  miles  to  the 
Yukon,  down  Yukon  35  miles  home;  all  over  unbroken 
trail.  Grub  for  all  this  time,  change  of  clothes  for  ac 
cidents,  tent,  stove,  picks,  shovels,  axes,  etc.,  made  a 
sled-load  for  a  dog  team,  but  we  tackled  it  all  the  same 
with  our  man  team.  Well,  my  pard  was  made  leader. 
He  forged  ahead,  as  all  new  recruits  usually  do.  He 
puffed,  of  course;  finally  he  lagged  and  swore;  his  breath 
came  fast  and  he  was  beyond  expressing  himself;  his  eyes 
stuck  out — hung  out.  No,  mine  not  so  much  so.  Old 
soldiers  never  do  the  work  of  raw  recruits.  His  tongue 
shriveled  and  he  never  spoke  nor  looked.  We  had  to 
duplicate  the  trip,  as  the  load  was  too  heavy.  We  vir 
tually  fell  down  the  hill  on  the  other  side,  but  the  snow 
was  too  deep  to  permit  of  any  injury  following.  Of 
course  duplicating  the  trip  could  by  no  means  duplicate 
the  gentleman's  temper — only  prolong  it.  We  packed 
down  the  hill  rather  than  sledded,  and  when  one  of  us 
toppled  over  the  other  necessarily  needed  to  help  him 
on  his  feet  again. 

"We  reached  the  rendezvous  late  in  the  evening,  and 
I  left  making  camp  to  pard.     The  stove  never  went  up, 


SAMUEL  SAWBOltm  M.D.  81 

and  purposely  I  failed  to  supply  tent-poles.  We  slept 
out  in  the  cold — only  about  30°  below.  We  were  not  in 
speaking  humor,  nor  did  we  do  any  grumbling;  in  fact, 
it  was  much  of  a  pantomime.  My  pard  did  not  even 
complain  of  my  biscuits,  though  I  am  sure  I  made  them 
to  aid  the  cause. 

"Next  day  we  prospected  Ophir  Creek,  but  finding  it 
quite  completely  staked  we  started  on  the  several  pups 
or  small  streams  emptying  into  it.  While  doing  this  we 
learned  that  we  could  not  possibly  reach  Indian  River 
with  a  sled  loaded,  and  therefore  must  return  as  we  had 
come.  I  could  see  'Ugh'  pictured  on  the  features  of  my 
pard,  and  indeed  before  the  scene  was  closed  it  was  fairly 
seen  upon  my  own.  I  regretted  the  loss  of  the  first- 
planned  route,  as  it  was  possible  we  might  run  upon  a 
moose,  than  which  nothing  more  agreeable  could  happen. 
We  hoped,  too,  to  fish  in  Indian  River,  and  being  lim 
ited  closely  the  whole  winter  to  salt  meats,  these  fresh 
ones  would  have  been  offerings  worthy  most  devout  thanks. 
I  need  not  picture  the  return.  Almost  the  day  was  ex 
hausted  crossing  the  range,  and  I  am  quite  sure  our  com 
bined  strengths,  with  our  combined  patiences  and  our 
individual  virtues,  were  all  gone,  all  worn  out  or  destroyed. 
It  was  a  cure-all,  but  at  greater  expense  than  I  had  bar 
gained  for.  Pard  never  resented  and  kept  the  lead,  but 
I  could  see  he  had  enough  of  your  humble  servant.  He 
was  cold  and  I  did  not  care  to  bring  on  reaction.  You 
know  your  ears  may  become  frosted,  and  rubbing  them 
well  with  snow  brings  on  reaction,  and  how  they  burn ! 
I  wished  to  avoid  a  reaction  in  pard,  for  oh,  how  hot  it 
might  have  been!  I  had  not  counted  upon  this  over 
work  as  my  medicine.  My  office  of  cook  is  the  one  in 
which  I  work  my  charm.  After  a  hard  day,  if  I  served 
a  hard  bean,  underdone  bacon,  and  weak  coffee,  and  spice 


82  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

them  with  plenty  of  ugly  back  talk,  I  can  tempt  the 
devil  to  creep  out  of  almost  any  subject.  The  overwork 
on  this  trip  was  good  (you  know  each  doctor  may  have  a 
different  medicine,  all  good)  but  it  reacted  upon  me  too 
severely. 

"We  staked  claims,  and  did  we  find  gold?  No.  Who 
ever  presumed  to  stop  there  a  month  and  dig  to  bed 
rock  to  prove  up  to  the  recorder  that  the  claims  were 
gold-bearing?  Why,  when  you  stake  a  promising  claim 
you  must  run  home  by  relays  to  record  it  or  some  other 
fellow,  possibly  the  one  just  ahead  of  you  in  the  line 
where  you  stand  three  days  before  the  recorder's  office, 
will  have  your  number  and  description  in  his  pocket  and 
records  it  before  your  eyes. 

"Yes,  the  claims  we  staked  were  within  the  Eldorado 
possibilities,  only  a  few  miles  over  the  range,  and  will 
sell  to  outsiders  by  virtue  of  the  association.  And,  too, 
they  may  prove  Vay-up  paying  claims." 

The  foregoing  narrative  of  Samuel  Sawbones  covers 
the  proceedings  for  prospecting  in  Alaska  in  many  of  its 
features.  The  anticipated  prospecting  tour  is  planned 
in  accordance  with  the  distance  and  the  country.  One 
may  have  a  dog  or  a  team  of  dogs  to  transport  his  grub, 
but  we  must  recollect  that  the  dogs  must  be  fed  from  the 
freight,  therefore  the  gain  is  not  absolute.  Some  husky 
prospector  may  carry  seventy-five  pounds  of  substantial 
grub  off  into  the  wilderness  upon  which  he  can  prospect 
one  or  several  months.  If  simply  on  a  tour  of  location 
he  can  go  the  limits  of  all  the  present  known  creeks  in 
the  Klondike  district.  Then  if  he  has  found  gold  he 
proceeds  to  duplicate  a  pack  of  grub  two  or  more  times 
until  a  supply  for  a  season  accumulates.  It  used  to  be 
in  Alaska  that  miners  worked  exclusively  bar  claims  on 
the  larger  streams.  They  would  carry  the  supply  of  grub 


SAMUEL  8A  WBONES,  M.  D.  83 

in  winter  with  dogs,  would  clean  up  at  the  end  of  sum 
mer,  and  remain  in  town  the  winter  except  the  time  to 
regrub  the  claim.  With  the  present  excitement  and  the 
change  in  the  location  of  gold  matters  are  much  dif 
ferent.  Stampedes  germinate,  as  it  were.  For  instance, 
Ophir  was  prospected  in  the  summer  season  and  aban 
doned.  Two  weeks  ago  a  party  of  several  crossed  over  to 
Ophir,  dug  something  of  a  hole,  and  called  it  Discovery; 
they  staked  up  and  down  and  returned  to  record.  In 
another  day  a  little  larger  crowd  crossed  to  Ophir  and 
located.  Each  day  a  little  larger  party  took  the  trail 
now  fairly  broken  to  Ophir  until  at  present  each  and 
every  claim  on  the  gulch  is  staked.  Each  and  all  of  these 
staked  because  others  before  them  went  there  and  located. 
No  gold  in  paying  quantity  has  yet  been  found.  Many 
only  stake  and  do  not  pay  the  $15  to  record,  but  they 
take  all  chances  of  some  one  else  recording  it. 

REFLECTIONS  UNDER  THE  AURORA. 

This  morning  my  hot  cakes  carried  the  mess  by  ac 
clamation.  They  were  all  eaten,  but  requiring  a  "sop" 
the  unusual  bacon  frying  was  used.  This  robbed  the 
"widow"  of  its  midnight  oil.  No  noon  meal  in  view  and 
no  supply  for  the  widow!  But  our  evening  meal — the 
enticing  hot  cakes  did  not  kill,  but  threatened,  and  the 
usual  supper  was  abandoned  for  a  simple  tea.  What  fol 
lows?  Why,  total  darkness.  The  aurora  borealis  plays 
freaks  and  fancies  in  the  heavens,  and  it  alone  must 
guide  us  through  the  night.  One  of  the  mess  confessed 
to  two  inches  of  tallow  dip,  but  "will  be  darned  if  he  is 
going  to  waste  it."  Candles  are  down  to  60  cents  per 
box,  but  we  need  a  score  of  necessaries — mitts  to  wood 
with,  a  pan  to  wash  in  (both  faces  and  pots  at  present 


84  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

are  washed  in  the  gold-pan  we  brought  to  clean  up  our 
fortune  in),  a  broom  for  housecleaning — and  the  candles 
must  be  forgotten. 

Under  the  aurora  we  go  to  cogitating  and  sometimes 
moralizing.  If  only  that  N.  A.  T.  Company  had  given  us 
a  can  of  lard,  how  we  would  hug  it,  even  with  our  best 
clothes  on! 

Brother  Young's  mission  church  burned  down  last  night, 
*  and  the  only  fire  brigade  is  the  curious  crowd  with  snow 
balls.  All  we  could  do  was  to  throw  snowballs  on  the 
adjoining  cabins.  Buckets,  yes,  but  the  water  might  freeze 
in  the  buckets  while  carrying  it  from  the  little  holes 
down  in  the  ice.  Nine  men  who  had  put  their  faith  and 
grub  in  Brother  Young's  tabernacle  have  only  their  faith 
left,  and  I  fear  it  will  not  keep  off  the  scurvy  the  coming 
winter.  Down  in  Montana  I  observed  the  Lord  did  not 
always  "temper  the  winds  to  the  shorn  lamb,"  and  I 
fear  as  well  for  the  probabilities  in  this  country. 

In  a  few  days  our  neighbors  will  be  going  "outside." 
In  fact,  a  hundred  poor  souls  are  reported  waiting  for 
the  first  substantial  trail  up  the  Yukon  to  the  lakes  and 
the  coast.  Our  neighbors  with  seven  dogs  promise  a  rapid 
trip,  thirty  days  or  less.  Usually  three  dogs  constitute 
the  team  for  three  men,  whose  outfit  and  grub  and  blankets 
weigh  125  pounds  to  the  man.  The  dogs'  own  feed  added 
makes  as  much  as  the  team  can  pull,  leaving  the  men  to 
walk  or  run,  which  is  understood  even  after  paying  the 
present  exacted  price  of  $300. 

What,  our  quondam  landlord  in  jail,  he  and  two  oth 
ers?  Yes,  Curley  Redd  and  the  bartender  and  a  pard  de 
liberately  pushed  in  the  front  door  after  business  hours, 
carried  off  the  wooden  boxes  in  which  was  stored  $21,000, 
and,  like  asses  (oxen),  began  immediately  to  spend  it, 
without  the  least  security  or  secrecy.  Why,  of  course  the 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  85 

mounted  police — anybody  could — detected  them  and  con 
fession  was  a  natural  course.  Most  of  the  money  came 
back.  The  penalty?  Early  in  the  season  the  criminals 
were  put  afloat  in  a  boat  on  the  Yukon  and  sent  down  to 
American  territory.  I  do  not  know  what  may  be  done 
with  them,  as  the  big,  fat,  husky  police  will  not  want  to 
share  their  scant  grub  with  the  criminals.  There  are 
more  thieves,  cut-throats,  and  vagabonds  in  this  camp  al 
ready  than  could  have  in  the  early  days  in  America  been 
screened  from  all  the  mining  camps  combined,  and  there 
will  be  no  abatement  until  something  better  than  the  pres 
ent  government  follows.  Mr.  Curley  Redd  rented  to  us 
our  present  cabin.  A  few  days  later  the  real  owner  came 
along  and  collected  a  second  rent.  One  week  ago  I 
bought  a  boat  on  the  river  ice.  Next  day  I  went  down  to 
dismember  my  boat  and  carry  it  home:  only  the  bottom 
was  left.  Yesterday  pard  bought  a  tent  standing  across 
the  way  from  some  young  gentlemen  of  Seattle  who  had 
accumulated  a  team  of  dogs  and  are  ready  to  go  outside. 
To-day  a  man  came  to  light  who  loaned  to  these  preco 
cious  youths  of  Seattle  the  tent,  and  is  preempting  said 
tent  regardless  of  our  claim.  To-day  we  look  about  for 
our  sled.  The  sled  is  the  market-basket  here,  its  sub 
stitute  for  the  good  housewife's  market-basket  at  home, 
yet  much  more  than  this.  Every  well-regulated  family 
must  have  a  sled.  Every  sled  is  alike.  They  cost  at 
home  market  $10 ;  here  they  are  worth  to-day  $40  to  $50. 
We  must  have  one  to  bring  in  wood;  for  carrying  our 
grub  stake  home  or  carrying  outfits  to  the  mines;  for  the 
children  to  play  with;  for  one  to  take  his  best  girl  out 
in.  Our  sled  is  gone,  stolen  or  astray,  and  we  must  carry 
our  wood  upon  our  backs.  Always  one  of  a  mess  must  re 
main  at  home  to  protect  it.  Aside  from  the  loss,  the 
moral  effect  of  all  this  depravity  is  damnable.  To-mor- 


86  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

row  all  the  mess  will  be  prowling  about  peering  in  here, 
there  and  everywhere,  looking  for  an  equally  good  sled 
that  can  be  spirited  away  as  was  ours. 

Samuel  Sawbones  appears  in  the  shadow. 

"Come  in,  doctor.  We  want  you  to  arbitrate  a  case 
for  us.  A  in  our  mess  says  he  will  not  be  damphool 
enough  to  chip  in  for  a  sixty-dollar  box  of  candles,  while 
B  says:  'Wait.  When  candles  are  $120  a  box  I  shall 
write  to  the  girl  I  left  behind  and  say  I  am  burning 
candles  at  $120  per  box  at  your  shrine,  and  I  hope  you 
will  appreciate  my  devotion  and  sacrifices/  Which  do 
you  commend?" 

Sawbones  delights  most  in  his  own  experiences  in  Alaska 
of  the  past  years.  He  assures  us  on  the  starvation  point 
by  telling  how  it  might  be  worse.  He  related  a  thrilling 
incident  where  a  poor  but  proud  prospector  stole  the  wall 
paper  off  his  office  wall  just  to  make  soup  from  the  flour 
paste  that  was  used;  then,  in  the  agony  of  arsenic-poi 
soning  from  the  green  paper,  he  sent  for  the  doctor  and 
confessed  to  the  fault.  I  will  not,  however,  vouch  for 
everything  Samuel  Sawbones  tells. 

"By  the  way,  Dr.  Sawbones,  what  is  the  aurora  bo- 
realis?" 

"What?  Why,  only  the  X-rays  from  the  Arctic  Ocean. 
The  light,  the  rays  of  the  Oriental  sun,  strikes  the  ice 
bergs  of  the  northern  sea;  these  serve  as  the  tubes,  as  it 
were;  they  divert  the  rays,  intensify  them,  magnify  and 
multiply  them,  and  the  rays  so  generated,  the  X-rays  as 
they  are,  pierce  the  heavens  and  make  themselves  seen 
and  even  felt  throughout  the  heavens.  Along  with  the 
rapid  play  of  colors  and  transposition  of  scenes  observed 
in  the  States,  here  we  have  fantastic  leaps  and  flashes, 
sheets  of  rainbow  brilliancy  dropping  down  to  the  earth ; 
with  strange  crackling,  electric  noises  so  nearly  overhead 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  87 

as  to  make  us  stop  asunder.     No,  I  cannot  formulate  you 

this  theory  in  scientific  language,  but  you  need  be  satisfied 
with  the  reasoning." 


It  is  generally  recognized  that  one  calamity  is  always 
followed  by  a  second.  One  fire  of  a  week  ago  sure  enough 
is  followed  by  a  much  worse  one.  And  all  we  could  do, 
as  on  the  former  occasion,  was  to  throw  snowballs.  My 
neighbor  declared  to  me  that  filling  his  water  bucket  at 
the  river  wells  this  morning,  he  found  upon  arriving  in 
his  cabin  a  fairly  solid  ice  frozen  over  it.  A  fire-engine 
at  this  temperature  might  get  a  stream  of  water  started, 
but  I  can  imagine  nothing  but  icicles  would  reach  the 
roofs  of  the  buildings.  Several  of  the  best  buildings  in 
Dawson  burned  last  night.  One,  a  fairly  well-equipped 
theater,  is  a  distressing  loss.  The  fire  was  limited  by 
a  vacant  lot  and  by  green  log  cabins.  Of  course  there 
is  no  whimpering  or  crying  here  over  misfortune,  as  for 
tune  is  supposed  or  expected  to  go  hand  in  hand  with  it. 
A  simple  strike  on  Stookum  Jim  Gulch  can  correct  the 
accident  as  shortly  as  it  was  created. 

And  will  people  freeze?  No,  none  except,  as  Samuel 
Sawbones  would  put  it,  damphools.  A  man  who  goes  out 
prospecting  or  traveling  in  this  temperature  without 
matches  and  without  sense  enough  to  build  a  fire  before 
he  is  frozen  too  stiff  to  light  a  match  may  freeze  sure 
enough.  One  soon  learns  here  to  provide  for  a  rainy  day. 
He  will  keep  his  stove  banked  up  with  wood,  and  a  little 
breastwork  of  ice  before  his  door  for  emergencies  of  70° 
or  80°  below.  He  will  economize  likewise  in  washing  his 
face  and  dishes.  He  who  is  out  every  day  grows  tough  and 
can  sleep  up  in  the  ranges  with  good  robe  covers  in  a 


88  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

brush  tent,  and  not  run  the  risk  of  freezing.  A  dog 
"musher"  tells  me  he  would  not  be  coaxed  to  sleep  any 
where  but  in  a  tent  piled  up  with  his  dogs. 

There  are  three  horses  in  town  which  command  $10 
per  hour,  but  the  owner  says  to-day:  "I  will  not  leave 
them  go  out."  It  seems  even  poor  frail  man  either  has 
more  endurance  or  ventures  more  than  is  safe  to  risk  in 
the  horse.  These  horses  have  a  hay  supply,  but  they  eat 
cornmeal  and  flour  and  other  truck  we  men  would  fain 
cache  for  the  spring-time.  Maybe  nothing  will  be  lost 
to  us,  for  we  may  have  the  opportunity  to  eat  the  horses. 

Wood  has  an  upward  tendency;  $30  to  $40  per  cord; 
$10  is  the  penalty  for  having  a  cord  cut  into  stove  wood. 
Oh!  oh!  oh!  How  it  does  rasp  one's  bronchial  tubes  to 
bend  over  a  buck-saw  this  cold  snap  and  make  his  break 
fast  wood. 

A  character  on  the  street  and  in  the  prominent  saloons 
up  to  the  present  time  was  a  "Jenny"  brought  up  from 
the  states  by  some  lubber  of  a  man  and  abandoned  when 
feed  got  scarce.  Jenny  would  edge  into  these  warm 
places  with  the  steady  crowds,  and  I  think  at  no  one  place 
was  it  ever  kicked  out.  It  had  innumerable  scars  over 
its  hams  from  hoofing  quite  too  close  to  the  stove.  Out 
in  the  street  it  seemed  to  serve  no  better  purpose  than  a 
whetstone  to  sharpen  the  teeth  of  the  Eskimo  dogs.  To 
day  our  old  associate  is  the  center  of  a  howling  mass  of 
these  dogs,  but  its  natural  toughness  and  the  solid  frozen 
mass  from  the  cold  disappoints  the  herd  of  scavengers. 
Poor  Jenny!  Some  day  there  will  drop  into  your  jack 
ass  heaven  something  in  the  shape  of  a  man,  your  late 
owner,  the  wretch  who  brought  you  up  to  this  cold,  cold 
country  and  left  you  without  food  and  without  shelter, 
who  left  you  to  eat  mucklucks,  to  freeze  out  in  the  street, 
or  exhaust  your  gall  by  holding  first  place  around  the 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  89 

saloon  stoves.     He  is  so  much  bigger  ass  than  you  that 
you  can  afford  to  forgive  him. 

Oh,  me!  but  it  is  getting  colder,  and  they  say  it  will 
be  60°  below  to-night!  What  shall  we  do  to  be  saved — 
saved  from  freezing?  I  can  add  to  my  bed  my  buffalo 
coat;  this  button  makes  a  sleeping-bag;  then  I  shall  keepv 
on  my  German  socks  and  my  flannels.  In  addition  to  my 
blankets  my  canvas  cover  must  go  over  all — over  my 
head  to  keep  the  warm  air  in  and  the  frost  out.  Bad  air, 
eh?  Oh,  that  does  not  count  here.  All  freighters  crawl 
into  sleeping-bags  and  tie  themselves  shut.  Indians  cover 
themselves  completely  under  skins.  The  native  dogs  lie 
anywhere  and  everywhere,  apparently  a  big  roll  of  fur, 
their  noses,  eyes,  and  ears  stuck  under  them  in  some  man 
ner  with  no  pretensions  to  breathing  fresh  air.  We  can 
live  here  through  the  winter  without  any  demand  on  fresh 
air.  Fresh-air  cranks  would  die  here.  It  is  a  custom 
with  several  tribes  of  Indians  down  the  river  upon  occa 
sions  of  scarcity  of  food  to  retire  into  an  underground 
abode  called  (I  forget  the  name)  and  take  a  sitting  pos 
ture,  close  up  the  place  quite  tight,  keep  it  hot,  and  re 
main  there  until  spring  opens  up,  neither  getting  fresh 
air  nor  exercise,  and  having  their  food  supply  cut  down 
to  the  meanest  possible  amount  once  daily,  which  is  sup 
plied  them  by  the  squaws  who  remain  to  regulate  outside 
affairs.  They  are  strict  to  remain  away  from  all  family 
ties.  And  yet  they  pan  out  all  right  with  the  spring 
tide.  Bad  air  does  not  kill  them. 

ROGERS. 

One  Rogers^  a  stray  from  a  British  whale-boat  in 
Behring  Sea,  was  taken  kindly  to  by  the  humanitarian 
element  of  St.  Michaels  and  outfitted  with  old  clothes  and 


90  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

such  luxuries  as  face  one  projecting  a  sojourn  on  the 
Klondike.  As  roustabout,  assistant  cook  and  valet,  he 
worked  his  way  with  the  foremost  of  us  up  to  Fort  Yukon. 
By  this  time  he  had  not  only  attained  an  independence, 
but  also  the  enviable  reputation  of  a  good  fellow  of  thrifty 
attitude  and  open  hand  and  heart.  I  myself  there  had 
the  pleasure  of  taking  a  little  gin-and-water  at  his  board. 
Of  course  Rogers  was  the  first  off  the  gangplank  at  Daw- 
son.  We  were,  however,  surprised,  even  horrified,  to  be 
summoned  before  his  excellency  the  captain  of  the  North 
west  Mounted  Police  to  testify  as  to  Rogers'  good  char 
acter.  Gilvery,  of  the  New  York  Herald,  upon  being 
dumped  off  the  boat — kicked  off,  as  it  were — on  the  bleak 
and  lonely  banks  at  Fort  Yukon,  remained  only  long 
enough  to  damn  the  temerity  and  inefficiency  of  the  river 
captains  and  the  trading  companies'  negligence.  Then 
he  gathered  several  Indians  and  hied  him  on  and  up  to 
ward  the  gold  fields,  leaving  the  mass  of  us  to  weep  in 
our  desolation.  The  mighty  strides  of  Gilvery  on  his 
tramp  up  the  banks  of  the  Yukon,  and  the  long,  tough 
pull  made  by  him  landed  him  many  days  ahead  of  us, 
but  landed  him  virtually  barefooted.  Only  a  few  days 
up  and  down  the  streets  of  Dawson  over  the  sharp  edges 
and  ragged  surfaces  of  the  nuggets  with  which  they  are 
paved  made  him  absolutely  so.  Now,  it  was  not  passing 
strange  at  all  that  upon  the  arrival  of  our  boat  at  the 
dock  the  enterprising,  rustling,  galloping  reporter  of  the 
live  New  York  Herald  should  be  there  looking  for  us. 
We  were  expecting  him,  and  indeed  the  fog-horn  of  our 
old  scow  had  awakened  him  from  his  golden  dreams  and 
warned  him  of  his  post  of  duty,  and  he  was  there,  but 
with  his  eyes  riveted  upon  the  corns  and  bruises  upon  his 
pattering  feet  rather  than  directed  to  his  old  pards. 
Thus  interested  in  the  footlights  of  the  occasion  lie 


SAMUEL  SA  WBONES,  M.  D.  9i 

made  a  hit.  Rogers,  always  first  on  boat  and  first  on 
shore,  struck  the  Klondike  at  the  same  time  as  our  cor 
respondent,  with  a  pair  of  fine,  high-stepping  boots.  Said 
boots  had  indelibly  penciled  inside  the  legs  the  name, 
the  place,  of  Gilvery,  of  the  New  York  Herald.  His 
right,  title  and  exclusive  ownership  was  vested  in  Rogers' 
very  first  step  to  fortune.  At  the  trial  it  was  developed 
that  Rogers,  after  clearing  the  boat  at  the  custom-house, 
was  the  proprietor  of  three  different  caches,  in  all  aggre 
gating  3,000  pounds  of  miscellaneous  toothsome  luxuries, 
besides  Gilvery's  boots,  which  he  cached  at  Fort  Yukon 
previous  to  the  flight  aforementioned.  We  relate  this  in 
cident  not  to  abuse  Gilvery,  who  is  a  Welshman,  or 
Rogers,  who  is  a  thief,  but  to  illustrate  what  a  young, 
active,  enterprising  young  man  may  accomplish  in  a  short 
season  in  Alaska,  where  the  vigilantes  have  not  yet  cropped 
out.  Yes,  Rogers  was  convicted.  His  worship,  the  captain 
of  the  Northwest  Mounted  Police,  acting  justice  of  the 
peace,  decreed  in  substance  as  follows:  "Her  majesty's 
larder  being  very  low,  while  we  have  not  yet  completed 
the  hardwood  finish  on  our  jail,  I  therefore  command 
that  the  prisoner  Rogers  be  and  hereby  is  ordered  aboard 
a  river  boat  commonly  called  a  skiff,  and  that  he  be  set 
adrift  with  the  current  of  the  Yukon  and  cautioned  to 
continue  said  course  until  faithfully  and  fairly  within 
the  bounds  and  jurisdiction  of  the  government  of  the 
United  States  of  America." 

EDMUNDS,  OF  VIRGINIA. 

Edmunds,  of  Virginia,  is  no  fool ;  he  is  no  wit.  Physic 
ally  Edmunds  is  prominent;  mentally  he  is  promising. 
He  first  showed  up  on  the  Skagway  Pass,  where  he 
earned  from  $20  per  day  up  packing.  He  had  come  from 


92  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

old  Virginia,  where  he  had  been  a  student  in  Lincoln 
College  and  was  doing  well  until  the  wave  of  prosperity 
struck  him.  During  the  Presidential  campaign  both 
parties  promised  their  supporters  a  wave  of  prosperity. 
The  successful  party  was  as  good  as  its  word  and  imme 
diately  its  wave  set  afloat. 

First,  the  great  wave  knocked  silver  off  its  perch ;  then, 
sweeping  on,  every  institution,  every  business,  every  en 
terprise  not  fortified  by  trusts,  bonds  or  monopoly,  was 
knocked  off  its  foundation.  The  wave  of  prosperity  is 
still  abroad,  and  not  a  poor  soul  dares  venture  forth  with 
his  paltry  dollar  lest  it  be  engulfed.  Edmunds,  of  Vir 
ginia,  not  being  a  union  man  of  any  sort  by  which  he 
could  draw  support,  and  having  no  stock  in  any  trust 
or  monopoly  through  which  he  could  sit  and  ride  upon 
this  great  wave  of  prosperity,  found  himself  adrift,  float 
ing  with  the  many  millions  of  his  co-humanity  to  whither 
unknown.  He  chanced  upon  the  Klondike  trail.  He  was 
a  pack-mule;  not  that  there  was  any  mule  about  him, 
but  because  he  packed  the  average  load  of  a  mule  and 
was  earning  as  much  as  a  pack-mule. 

Edmunds  by  chance  camped  on  the  trail  of  two  young 
men  of  Seattle,  both  delirious  with  the  Klondike  fever, 
both  fresh  from — one  his  mother,  the  other  a  young  wife. 
They  elicited  his  sympathy  and  engaged  him  first  as  nurse, 
later  as  general  matron.  In  the  fullness  of  their  hearts 
they  divided  their  worldly  goods  into  three  parts,  one 
of  which  they  donated  to  Edmunds,  now  their  captain. 

Windy  Arm!  Oh,  Windy  Arm!  Quailing  hearts  and 
weak  knees  are  thine.  The  terror  of  cheechokers,  yet  the 
bone  doctor  for  the  Klondike  fever.  Scores  of  cures  canst 
thou  boast !  Three  days  and  three  nights  were  Edmunds 
and  his  two  patrons  stranded  upon  one  of  the  numerous 
islands  of  Windy  Arm.  The  wind  seems  never  to  fail 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  93 

there.  Edmunds  tried  to  cheer  up  by  whistling  when  his 
two  companions  waited  upon  him  with  this :  "You  know, 
sailors  always  whistle  when  becalmed  for  the  gods  of  the 
sea  to  send  them  wind."  Edmunds  obeyed  their  wish,  but 
still  it  blew.  As  a  choice  of  two  evils — that  of  being 
driven  crazy  on  this  sandy  bar  or  being  broken  to  pieces 
on  the  rocky  shore — the  two  cheechokers  of  Seattle  made 
each  his  will  in  favor  of  their  old  nurse  and  partner, 
and  commending  themselves  to  his  care  chanced  their 
escape  to  shore.  No  sooner  struck  than  both  stampeded 
rapidly  on  the  back  track  home.  Edmunds  remained  a 
lone  mariner.  He  trusted  himself  to  the  mercies  of  Windy 
Arm.  The  first  day  his  mast  went  overboard,  and  he, 
helpless,  camped  right  in  the  trough  of  bear  tracks  into 
which  he  was  cast.  He  says:  "With  all  the  guns  and 
pistols  and  knives  of  my  late  companions  to  fortify  me 
I  did  not  sleep  that  night."  Next  day  he  broke  his 
rudder,  when  he  says  he  prayed  a  little,  and  reached  shore 
in  safety.  He  wished  he  had  not  let  go  of  his  late  com 
panions,  for  he  thought  the  bottom  of  the  lake  would  not 
be  so  cold  if  lying  there  all  three  instead  of  his  lone  self. 
However,  he  confronted  all  dangers  and  defeated  them. 
He  had  reached  the  canyon  below  all  the  lakes  and  was 
whistling  through  sheer  good  humor  at  his  own  success, 
when,  as  he  says,  he  was  mortified  at  six  guns  pointed 
at  him  and  each  with  a  man  behind.  He  let  his  hands 
have  their  way  and  their  way  was  up.  Explanations  fol 
lowed.  His  two  pards,  footsore  and  hungry,  in  their  rapid 
back  action  became  mendicants,  and  in  the  weakness  of 
their  miseries  they  forgot  facts  and  detailed  a  history 
of  piracy  on  the  high  seas  which  is  death — as  Edmunds 
almost  experienced.  But  our  skipper  escaped  the  forearm 
of  his  craft  and  lives  to  hang  in  a  better  cause.  Friends 
happened  to  follow  down  the  trail  (he  had  friends  wher- 


91  TEE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OP 

ever  he  had  acquaintances),  and  they  vouched  for  his  tale 
of  woes  versus  the  tale  of  the  two  kids  of  Seattle.  Then 
this  Virginia  coon,  barely  escaped  from  being  skinned 
and  barbecued,  sailed  down  through  White  Horn  Rapids, 
whistling  "Dixie,"  with  his  heaviest  sails  afloat,  and  landed 
in  another  week  at  Louistown,  the  other  shore  of  Dawson, 
with  2,000  pounds  of  grub  of  the  actual  value  of  $2,000. 
He  proposes  staying  with  us  a  year  and  hopes  to  replace 
this  grub  cache  with  the  same  weight  of  gold-dust  and 
nuggets  and  hie  him  back  to  old  Virginia. 

GAMBLING    IN    DAWSON. 

Passing  an  idle  hour  in  the  Miners'  Home  poking 
about  from  faro  table  to  poker  game,  I  was  arrested  by 
a  peculiar  spilling  noise  something  of  the  manner  I  have 
heard  from  the  ripping  of  a  farmer's  grain  bag  and  the 
spilling  of  his  wheat.  This  was  a  sharper  click,  how 
ever,  a  metallic  ring  which  wheat  at  50  cents  per  bushel 
never  possessed.  Claimant  of  No.  7  Eldorado  had  bursted 
his  sack  of  dust.  The  fire  shovel  and  broom  were  brought 
into  requisition  and  a  hasty  clean-up  made  of  what  was 
in  sight.  The  claimant  of  No.  7  said :  "Come  and  drink, 
everybody — come  and  drink!"  Sometimes  the  Miners' 
Home  has  a  hundred  patrons,  but  No.  7  Eldorado  was 
game  and  did  not  quail  before  this  number,  even  if  the 
drinks  are  50  cents  each.  Then  No.  7,  always  a  high- 
stepper  with  several  drinks,  deposited  the  remains  of  his 
sack  in  the  faro  dealer's  box.  Of  course,  once  there  it 
is  a  time  deposit. 

This  is  preparatory  to  a  discussion  of  gambling  in  the 
Klondike.  A  dealer  with  whom  I  am  in  touch  confides 
to  me  that  his  house  cleans  up  nightly  about  $2,000. 
Of  this  sum  a  share  must  be  credited  to  the  bar.  "We 


SAMUEL  SAWBONE8,  M.  D.  95 

broke  Smooth-faced  Billy  last  night.  He  began  playing 
several  days  ago  with  a  few  thousand  dollars,  but,  poor 
fellow,  did  not  hold  out  long.  In  poker  the  rake-off  is 
big,  four  bits  for  every  deal  and  four  bits  for  every  pair. 
It  is  not  a  popular  game.  Our  spring  trade  was  good. 
A  lot  of  cheechokers  assumed  the  role  of  professionals, 
and  with  a  lot  of  little  tricks  and  actual  steals  as  ac 
complishments  made  big  clean-ups.  Now  actual  profes 
sionals  run  the  games,  and  only  they  and  the  proprietors 
make  money.  It  is  common  here  for  the  player  to  be  as 
full  as  his  sack — associate  conditions.  There  seems  to 
be  a  fellow-feeling  between  a  full  claimant  and  his  full 
sack,  and  usually  the  fullness  of  both  ooze  out  hand  in 
hand,  and  both  may  be  met  on  the  homeward  trail  after 
a  few  days  in  the  same  dilapidated  condition.  It  is  usual 
to  hand  one's  sack  to  the  dealer,  who  deposits  it  in  his 
strong-box.  It  is  common  here  for  the  player  to  take  a 
pile  of  chips  and  continue  his  drinks;  and  it  not  unfre- 
quently  happens  that  he  is  so  tired  or  so  sleepy  that  he 
walks  off,  leaving  his  deposit  to  our  tender  mercies.  Why, 
sometimes  we  close  the  game  in  the  mornin'g  with  so  many 
dust-sacks  left  behind  that  we  are  at  a  loss  for  room. 
Yes,  most  of  them  are  redeemed  or  redeposited." 

There  are  no  new  facts  in  the  matter  of  gambling  to 
differ  from  all  old  historic  mining  camps.  The  profes 
sionals  live  by  it,  as  do  the  proprietors  of  the  game. 

Just  lately  a  smart  Aleck  with  the  brand  "Goldy" 
started  out  to  beat  the  record  of  damphools.  He  beat 
it  so  many  leagues  that  he  forfeited  his  rights  entirely 
to  the  damphools'  club.  They  may,  however,  institute  a 
forty-second  degree  for  him.  Goldy,  by  close  attention 
to  business,  with  a  blink  eye  on  supplies  and  a  sharp  eye 
on  corners,  had  accumulated  above  $20,000  in  dust;  then 
he  let  himself  loose  on  the  town.  Of  course  he  was 


96  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

tendered  the  freedom  of  the  city;  all  fools  are  when  they 
have  a  bounteous  hand.  In  two  weeks  he  had  gambled 
away  his  $20,000  in  toto — all  rights  and  titles  thereto 
and  to  all  its  fragments.  His  wreck  of  scattered  brains 
will  scarcely  serve  as  a  foundation  for  a  new  fortune, 
since  so  many  new  fools  are  encompassed  here  and  oppo 
sition  must  bar  trade.  If  Goldy  had  a  claim  on  Eldorado 
we  would  not  say  "Poor  fool,"  for  a  few  days'  clean-up 
would  fill  his  sack  and  he  would  be  with  us  once  again. 
Take  a  tumble  to  yourself,  Goldy.  Go  marry  a  squaw 
and  live  on  brain  food — she  will  supply  you  with  dried 
fish.  You  may  in  that  way  get  credit  enough  to  receive 
Christian  burial! 

It  is  said  the  civil  government  of  the  Klondike  pro 
poses  abolishing  gambling,  but  at  present  the  government 
suggested  is  sitting  on  dog-sleds  at  the  head  of  the  Yukon 
awaiting  ways  and  means.  It  is  short  of  not  wheels,  but 
motive  power.  More  dogs  are  necessary  to  run  the  gov 
ernment — to  run  it  down  to  Dawson.  It  makes  one  mad 
to  reflect  upon  gambling,  to  think  of  one  man  in  a  trick, 
a  scheme  of  baiting  a  hook  with  gold,  a  miserable,  sneak 
ing  hook  wherewith  to  take,  to  hook,  to  steal,  to  sneak 
from  some  fellow-mortal  his  gold,  his  goods,  his  toil,  his 
cache,  his  family's  life  and  support,  to  wrest  this  from 
him  and  them  and  store  the  ill-gotten  cache  as  his  own! 

THE   LONGEST   NIGHT. 

Oh,  the  cold  and  dreary  winter!  Oh,  the  cold  and 
weary  winter! 

It  is  cold  and  dreary  sure  up  here  in  Alaska,  yes,  to 
some  of  us  weary.  The  government  thermometer  has  al 
ready  marked  62°,  and  that  any  fool  knows  is  very  cold. 

We  all  stand  it  like  heroes;  we  must.     The  sled  and 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  97 

axe  up  the  hillside  for  wood  is  a  terror.  The  night  is  like 
being  bound  down  in  a  dungeon,,  bound  down  helpless  by 
every  conceivable  mass  and  collection  of  bedclothes,  wear 
ing  apparel,  and  of  household  articles  that  can  cover  one. 
Getting  up  in  the  morning  is  a  terror,  is  full  of  fear  and 
trembling  amid  snapping  of  frost  and  freezing  things  in 
cans  and  buckets.  Meals  are  eaten  with  a  reserve  grown 
of  the  possibilities  of  a  whole  winter  of  this  which  would 
run  the  larder  so  low  that  worse  than  cold  may  follow. 
But,  thanks,  the  62°  proved  to  be  only  a  cold  snap.  A 
breathing  spell,  a  warm  wave,  is  already  peeping  in  to  see 
how  we  faced  it,  how  we  bear  up  with  the  freaks  of 
Alaska's  Jack  Frost.  It  looks  us  over  carefully,  ears, 
nose,  cheeks,  toes,  and  congratulates  us  upon  having  so 
happily  outwitted  Jack  the  rustler,  for  not  a  kick  is  com 
ing. 

I  have  no  almanac  to  consult  in  the  matter  of  longest 
day  and  night  and  therefore  am  not  official.  This  23d 
day  of  December  I  observe  the  shades  of  night  setting 
down  upon  us  from  about  3  P.M.  Night  does  not  fall 
upon  us  suddenly,  unexpected.  We  are  so  hemmed  in 
by  the  mountains  at  Dawson  that  the  sun  is  down  long 
before  its  legitimate  retiring  hour.  This  time  of  year 
the  sun  does  not  seem  to  fill  the  bill — to  obey  the  mandate 
accompanying  its  introduction  to  us — to  shine  by  day. 
I  am  quite  sure  no  one  here  has  seen  it  shine  for  the 
past  two  months.  It  has  a  simple,  sluggish  habit  of  get 
ting  up  sometimes  during  the  morning,  possibly  rising 
over  the  distant  south  hills  about  the  height  one  could 
reach  with  a  ten-foot  pole.  There  it  sits  merely  outlined 
above  the  horizon. 

December  24.  It  might  have  had  the  graciousness  to 
greet  us  to-day  if  only  to  say  "Good-day,  friends.  We 
will  meet  soon  again  and  I  will  stay  with  you."  Mr, 


08  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  0$ 

Sun,  we  will  forgive  you  showing  us  the  cold  shoulder 
if  some  day  you  open  up  to  us  gold  galore,  and  we  will 
go  along  flirting  with  the  silvery  moon  or  sport  with  that 
fancy,  fickle  aurora  borealis  for  the  present. 

"The  sun  rises  in  the  east  to  open  up  the  day."  Oh,  no ! 
My  good  brethren,  you  must  close  your  shops  up  here  in 
the  winter.  It  does  not  rise  in  the  east.  'Way  down 
south  you  look  for  its  peep  into  day.  To-day  about  11 
A.M.  it  mounts  its  southern  stairway,  takes  its  throne  in 
an  obscure  balcony,  reclines  there  until  2  P.M.,  then 
glides  down  the  bannister  of  the  same  southern  stairway 
and  disappears  until  to-morrow. 

Mechanics  at  outside  work  get  in  only  a  few  hours' 
time.  Miners  of  course  work  by  candlelight.  And  yet 
I  must  confess  the  winter  is  not  so  very  weary.  Time 
passes  in  some  inconceivable  way.  Daylight  is  utilized 
in  getting  wood  and  water  and  in  marketing.  Evenings 
go  in  cooking,  house-cleaning,  errands,  gossip,  and  news- 
gathering.  If  weary  the  bunk  is  always  open  to  us,  and 
sleep  up  here  goes  hand  in  hand  with  eating.  We  never 
have  our  fill.  The  most  hardened  sinner  can  sleep  ten 
hours  out  of  the  twenty-four.  You  will  suggest:  "A 
letter  home  now  and  then."  You  would  not  suggest  it 
from  our  standpoint.  I  am  from  home  now  five  months 
and  not  one  word  from  there  has  reached  me.  Under 
such  conditions  one  quite  loses  taste  for  writing  letters 
home.  Of  course  letters  home  were  prolific  for  months, 
but  by  this  time  we  have  forgotten  what  we  have  here 
tofore  recorded.  Moreover,  we  are  learning  that  we  have 
written  innumerable  lies  to  the  outside.  We  are  learn 
ing  that  only  one  news  item  of  six  is  reliable.  We  have 
already  learned  to  not  believe  anything  we  hear,  and 
only  after  personal  investigation  can  we  vovck  for  an 
item.  We  are  afraid  to  chronicle  any  news  lest  we  must 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  99 

dispatch  a  letter  to  correct  it.  The  old  way — our  way — 
of  news-gathering,  from  mouth  to  mouth,  is  quite  thrill 
ing,  but  the  old  Bladder  at  home  would  blush  itself  into 
an  apoplexy  to  be  caught  in  10  per  ^ent.  of  the  lying 
that  makes  up  our  daily  news.  These  are  to-day's  head 
lines:  "A  nugget  was  found  to-day  in  Eldorado  weigh 
ing  just  one  pound."  "No.  24  has  made  a  new  strike. 
The  pay  streak,  three  feet  thick,  pans  out  $100  per  pan." 
"Hunker  has  a  big  find — a  pan  of  dirt  has  more  gold 
than  waste."  "There  is  a  stampede  to  Sulphur;  No.  20 
has  $20  to  the  pan  and  claims  are  selling  for  $100,000." 
"Dalton,  who  went  out  on  the  first  ice,  was  robbed  and 
killed,  with  his  four  partners.  They  had  $40,000,  which 
was  carried  off."  To-morrow  every  one  of  these  reports 
will  be  corrected  or  denied.  It  is,  however,  an  average 
daily  bulletin. 

But  home  haunts  us.  Home  looms  up  every  day  as 
stanch,  honest  old  home — yes,  sweet  home!  This  night 
would  not  be  so  long  if  the  morrow  waited  us  with  a 
cheerful  breakfast  and  a  cheerful  waiter.  If  we  could 
go  into  the  old  bath-tub  for  a  splash  before  going  to  bed 
we  would  sleep  better.  If  we  had  a  bin  of  coal  at  $5  per 
ton  instead  of  wood  at  $40  per  cord  we  would  not  long 
for  home  quite  so  much.  And  if  just  here  I  could  com 
pound  a  glass  of  hot  rum  for  20  cents  with  a  good  cigar; 
thrown  in,  instead  of  going  up  to  the  bar  and  paying 
$1,  I  would  sleep  to-night  and  dreams  perchance  would 
not  haunt  me.  If  somebody  from  home  was  bent  over 
this  cranky  three-legged  stool,  reading  as  I  write,  then 
this  longest  night  might  not  be  too  long.  Yes,  my  cof 
fee-pot  is  boiling  hot  at  this  present  moment  and  a  lunch 
is  peeping  out  of  the  box — cupboard,  I  should  say — and 
such  an  appetite !  Only  a  little  dried  herring  and  a  sea 
biscuit !  And  do  you  think  I  cannot  make  merry  over  the. 


100  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

exit  of  the  longest  day  with  this  feast?  Not  everybody 
elbowing  me  about  Dawson  can  give  thanks  for  as  much. 

Saloons  are  gradually  closing  because  whisky  is  giving 
out.  A  home-made  whisky,  "hootch,"  is  in  vogue,  but  it 
kills  at  a  given  number  of  rods.  Dancing  halls  are  in 
full  play,  but  with  the  exit  of  whisky  it  will  be  exit  girls. 
Gambling  must  wane  with  hootch  and  other  stimulants, 
yet  will  hold  out  against  almost  every  odd.  Men  and 
miners  get  good  pay  and  are  generally  provided  for,  but 
out  of  4,000  people  in  and  about  Dawson  there  is  an  un 
dercurrent  of  misery  that  the  "widow,"  or  the  tallow  dip, 
can  never  bring  to  light.  There  is  a  genteel  element  who 
came  here  the  Lord  knows  for  what.  No  visible  means  of 
support.  "Too  proud  to  beg,"  these  are  the  ones  now 
dreaming  of  home  and  thanking  their  stars  that  the 
longest  night  goes  to-day  and  that  sunshine  ere  long  will 
come. 

There  are  some  veritable  nabobs  in  Dawson,  some  who 
even  keep  not  carriages,  but  dog  teams  for  luxury,  and 
dogs  are  worth  $300  to-day,  while  their  keep  is  equivalent 
to  $1  per  pound  of  food. 

Samuel  Sawbones  came  in  to-day  and  placed  a  four- 
ounce  bottle  of  laudanum  on  my  shelf.  A  lawyer  out 
side,  but  driven  up  here  by  the  panic — the  gold-bug  rule — 
approached  the  doctor  with  this  little  bottle,  and  poor 
Samuel  gave  him  $2.50  for  it.  "Why,"  said  Sawbones, 
"I  saw  want  in  the  shadow  that  man  made  by  the 'moon 
light."  An  old  chap  sixty-five  years  old  pulled  up.  "Want 
some  wood?"  Charity  looked  out  from  his  face.  "Yes." 
He  piled  up  his  little  sled  load  of  limb  wood  and  figured 
44  square  feet  at  27  cents  per  square  foot.  "Eleven  dol 
lars  and  eighty  cents,  sir."  "And  how  much  to  cut?" 
"Four  dollars,  sir."  I  cut  it  myself. 

Many  sit  this  longest  night  in  cold  abstraction  as  to 


THE    WIDOW    ON    THE 
KLONDYKE. 


SAMUEL  SA  WBONE8,  M.  D.  101 

how  to  make  this  lingering  winter  meet  late  spring.  But 
in  face  of  all  this  there  is  gold;  the  gulches  are  all  full 
of  gold.  That  is  what  we  stampeders  iiere  to  the  Klon 
dike  came  for;  and  why  shall  we  not  gather  it  in  and 
carry  it  home? 

Well,  the  tallow-dip  fiend — he  who  cornered  the  candles 
— has  had  his  day,  and  from  now  on  will  be  in  the  de 
cline.  The  widow  will  soon  have  short  hours'  work  again. 
The  saloons,  gambling,  dancing,  all  these  that  thrive  by 
night  alone,  will  be  sorry  the  longest  night  has  come  and 
gone.  All  the  rest  of  us  will  join  hand  in  hand  and 
jubilate  over  it.  The  widow?  Well,  she  deserves  hon 
orable  mention.  In  fact,  to  half  the  population  of  the 
Klondike  the  longest  night  would  be  twice  as  long  only 
for  the  light  of  the  widow.  Candles  have  already  dropped 
in  price,  yet  most  of  them  cannot  buy.  To  us  the  light 
of  thy  countenance,  0  dear  widow,  must  drive  dull  dark 
ness  away.  She  is  fractious  at  times — would  not  be  a 
widow  if  she  were  not.  She  is  fastidious,  again:  must 
be  fed  on  the  fat  of  the  land  and  the  crumbs  of  the  bacon 
must  be  well  out  of  the  grease  if  you  will  depend  upon 
her  brightest  smile.  She  resents  the  cold  and  settles  down 
to  a  poor  icy  glimmer  until  you  warm  her  well.  She 
spits  and  flutters  much,  according  to  how  the  barometer 
sits  down  upon  her.  She  must  be  dressed  to  a  nicety  or  she 
may  get  into  a  pet.  She  may  be  gay  and  lively,  dull  or 
stupid,  just  as  you  coax  her.  It  never  failed  that  I  got 
out  of  temper  and  tried  to  drive  her  but  that  I  had  time  in 
the  gloom  of  her  rebellion  to  ponder  and  repent.  Oh,  no ; 
the  widow  of  the  Klondike  does  not  flirt  and  run  away 
with  a  better-looking  man.  Give  her  her  dues  and  all 
goes  "By  your  leave,  sir !"  So  unlike  the  widow  of  home 
associations!  In  fact,  she  is  strictly  what  you  make  her 
and  never  off  color.  And  with  all  her  faults  we  love  her 


102  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

still.  The  fine  point  of  a  Klondike  widow  is  that  any 
body  can  make  one :  a  flat  or  half  tin  can ;  twist  of  candle- 
wick  nicely  adjusted  over  the  top;  this  filled  with  bacon 
fat  or  lard. 

I  am  sitting  out  this  longest  night  hoping  to  be  of 
service  recording  minutes  that  might  guide  the  thou 
sands  who  may  follow  us  to  these  wilds.  How  futile  will 
such  hope  be ! 

This  night  must  finish  its  own  reflections.  The  aurora 
has  a  brightness  in  it  that  I  fain  would  copy,  but  it  will 
not  ebb  and  flow. 

And  now  the  widow  spluttered  as  if  to  say  "to  bed." 
This  I  will,  and  with  more  than  the  usual  grace  repeat 
"Now  I  lay  me  down  to  sleep." 

WINDY  ARM. 

Ah,  thou  fiendish,  gluttonous  Windy  Arm!  Give  up 
thy  dead,  give  up  thy  feasting  upon  us,  and  say  "finis"  to 
"tales  of  woe"  now  ready  to  be  written — already  written. 

Yes,  all  was  calm  and  quiet  when  our  little  boat-load 
put  its  trust  in  the  good  behavior  of  Windy  Arm.  They 
did  not  know  that  every  turn  in  Windy  Arm  meant  a 
change  of  weather,  of  wind  and  waves;  that  every  hour 
meant  weal  or  woe  to  the  landlubber  sailor.  They  soon 
learned  this.  Yes.  Christine  Nillson  was  a  buxom  lass, 
fair,  a  little  fat,  with  a  little  brogue  and  a  light  step. 
Just  a  little  Swedish  was  left  in  her  speech  through  her 
mother's  early  prayers,  for  she  was  American  almost,  just 
a  year  or  two  of  infancy  wanting.  But  she  was  all  Amer 
ican  in  go,  in  get  up  and  dust,  in  matters  of  the  mighty 
dollar,  in  muscle  and  physical  endurance.  Christine  had 
crossed  safely  and  with  honorable  mention  the  notorious 
Skagway  trail.  She  had  crossed  it,  and  praise  be  raised 


SAMUEL  3AWBONE8,  M.  B.  103 

up  to  her,  without  shifting  her  burden  upon  the  back  of 
the  beastly  bony  bulk  in  shape  of  man,  the  Siwash  Indian. 
Christine  had  made  her  debut  upon  the  shores  of  Windy 
Arm  with  a  family  sewing  machine  strapped  to  her  back 
bound  for  Dawson  on  the  Klondike.  She  dreamed  of 
making  parkees,  moccasins,  caps,  and  mittens  for  the 
bonanza  kings  of  that  camp.  Nor  was  she  much  off  her 
base  in  the  speculations,  only  that  the  best-laid  plans  of 
men  and  mice  aft  gang  aglee.  Christine's  courage,  her 
comely  face,  and  her  service  in  camp  made  her  an  ac 
ceptable  passenger  for  the  route  down  the  river.  Three 
of  the  stern  sex  occupied  the  frail  ship  that  was  to  land 
her  and  her  machine  on  the  Klondike  shore.  One  at  the 
helm  and  two  at  the  oars  is  the  usual  ship's  crew  on 
Windy  Arm.  Alas !  Christine,  that  thou  art  so  comely, 
so  fresh,  so  charming,  for  else  Windy  Arm  might  not  now 
be  counting  so  high  its  victims,  its  season  not  so  abundant. 
Of  all  the  arrivals  at  Dawson,  the  most  harassing  tales, 
the  most  extensive  lies  are  told  regarding  Windy  Arm. 
The  waves  at  many  points  in  the  most  modest  account  are 
not  less  than  twenty  feet  high;  other  stories  make  them 
fifty  feet.  Just  where  there  is  always  a  sereneness,  a 
calm,  on  the  lake  to  make  one  take  one  easy  breath,  then 
the  next  short  turn,  only  the  length  of  a  boat,  where  it 
tumbles  the  craft  in  a  mountainous  sea,  there  the  steers 
man  cast  one  wayward  sidelong  glance  at  the  blossom 
cheeks  and  sparkling  eyes  of  Christine — cast  a  fatal 
glance,  for  in  that  glance  he  forgot  the  rudder,  and  this 
slipped  from  his  hands  as  the  fair  girl  slipped  into  his 
head;  a  fatal  covetous  glance  indeed,  for  that  moment, 
the  very  spur  of  that  moment,  one  of  these  fifty-feet-high 
waves,  born  of  Windy  Arm,  struck  the  craft  aft,  and  our 
upturned  boat  rode  on  its  crest,  a  bare  structure;  nothing 
more  was  to  be  seen.  Two  strange  freaks  need  here  be 


104  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

chronicled — chronicled  only  and  not  explained.  The 
boat  overturning  shipped  its  bulk  in  air,  which  buoyed  it 
up  while  the  cargo  spilled  out  and  sank;  spilled  out  all 
save  Christine  and  the  steersman,  who  each  clung  to  a 
cross-beam  and  were  free  to  breathe  in  the  air  chamber 
as  above  created  instead  of  compelled  to  drown  in  the 
water  and  sink  with  their  companions  and  their  posses 
sions.  The  second  freak  was  that  the  wave  that  wrecked 
the  ship  was  the  last,  if  not  the  sole,  wave  sent  booming 
that  hour  and  at  that  point  at  Windy  Arm.  Therefore 
the  wreck  floated  on  the  peaceful  bosom  of  that  lake  with 
out  change  of  position  or  without  either  danger  or  relief 
to  the  hidden  contents. 

The  absence  of  any  very  dear  thing  that  draws  two 
people  together,  or  intuitiveness  or  instinct,  might  have 
left  one  or  each  of  the  two  victims  to  his  or  her  special 
prayer  for  safe  delivery  from  the  dangers  of  the  sea  and 
sudden  death.  Only  Christine  had  never  heard  it  to  be 
her  duty  to  lay  up  treasures  in  heaven,  where  moth  and 
rust  and  ihe  waves  of  Windy  Arm  shall  not  corrupt,  there 
fore  she  bewailed  the  loss  of  her  sewing  machine,  not  in 
the  feeble  tongue  of  saying  her  beads,  but  in  fierce  hys 
terical  lamentations  that  could  be  heard  not  by  the  gods 
of  the  sea,  else  they  would  have  given  up  the  machine,  but 
by  the  steersman  of  the  sunken  craft,  who  at  once  located 
her  and  extended  all  possible  consolation  along  with  a 
helping  hand.  This  was  timely,  too,  for  Christine  in 
deed  might  have  forgotten  her  hold  on  existence  in  her 
struggle  over  her  most  promising  means  of  existence.  He 
clasped  her  clasp  the  tighter,  in  fact,  squeezing  it  need 
lessly,  if  not  thoughtlessly,  while  he  poured  into  her  list 
less  ear  hope  and  life  and  taught  her  to  forgive  the  deep 
for  swallowing  up  her  all,  her  sewing  machine. 

They  floated  on  quietly,  nor  did  the  minutes  appear 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  105 

hours.  The  steersman  forgetting  danger,  began  to  pour 
out  to  Christine  a  great  big  casket  of  woes.  He  was  a 
lonely  creature  tired  of  himself  and  yet  always  satis 
fied  until  his  trail  led  into  hers.  Since  that  early  morn 
ing  when  first  he  met  her  and  pooled  his  issues — his 
grub — with  hers  for  the  voyage  down  the  Yukon  he  had 
longed  for  something  more  than  was  his  share  during 
bachelorhood.  He  had  not  slept,  only  dreamed  of  her. 
Of  course  he  would  not  have  made  this  break  in  his  rea 
sonable  plea,  only  that  while  pleading  he  yet  had  to  be 
exercising  his  mind  at  the  same  time  with  his  heart  de 
vising  ways  and  means  for  getting  out  of  the  predica 
ment  into  which  Windy  Arm  had  placed  them;  therefore 
he  was  excusable.  He  continued  unchecked  pouring  out 
a  tale  of  love  and  mixing  it  up  with  his  inventions  for  re 
lief  of  the  physical  strain. 

"I  know,  0  Christine,  that  this  is  a  divine  interposi 
tion  to  throw  our  fortunes  into  one  channel — that  we 
may  float  down  life  hand  in  hand,  heart  with  heart — 
that  our  lives  shall  be  one  I" 

"You  nasty  fellow!"  exclaimed  Christine,  breaking  out 
in  a  hysterical  fit.  "You  drown  my  poor  machine  and 
give  me  one  man.  My  sewing  machine  was  worth  a  dozen 
men." 

"But,  my  dear,  I  will  buy  you  a  new  one  in  the  Klon 
dike,  and  I  will  discover  you  a  mine,  and  we  will  load 
the  boat  with  gold  and  pull  together  our  way  home.  We 
will  be  married  and  will  not  forget  the  rudder  and 
drown." 

And  then  poor  Christine  began  to  melt  and  unload  her 
bosom. 

"'Way  back  in  Dakota  I  have  a  sweetheart — Peter  the 
blacksmith.  Peter  is  such  a  very  good  man  and  he  loves 
me  so.  He  wants  to  marry  me,  but  Peter  has  a  mother — 


106  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

a  poor  old  mother  to  support,  and  his  strong  arm  Vay 
back  in  Dakota  will  not  keep  his  mother  in  good  strong 
tea,  in  soft  warm  blankets,  with  a  good  roaring  fire,  and 
at  the  same  time  buy  nice  ribbons  and  a  lovely  bonnet  for 
a  wife,  with  Sunday  clothes  for  himself.  So  Peter  and  I 
agreed  that  I  should  go  to  the  Klondike  with  my  sewing 
machine  and  bring  back  a  great  bag  of  gold.  Then  we 
should  be  married  and  his  mother  should  continue  in 
luxury  as  at  present.  I  do  not  believe  a  kind  providence 
means  to  come  in  between  me  and  Peter,  and  that  my 
treasure  at  the  bottom  of  this  sea  was  providential,  and 
that  I  was  to  marry  some  one  else  who  perhaps  has  a  best 
girl  at  home." 

The  steersman,  still  undaunted,  combined  his  woes  and 
arguments. 

"But,  you  see,  your  sewing  machine  is  no  good  on 
the  Klondike;  it  is  no  means  of  support.  All  the  sewing 
is  done  by  the  Indians  with  bone  needles  and  thread  made 
out  of  deer  tendons.  They  sew  all  the  gloves  and  caps 
and  moccasins  and  parkees.  Nobody  wears  white  shirts 
and  collars,  no  fine  gowns,  so  I  really  think  a  divine  ruling 
interfered  to  save  you  a  useless  trouble  packing  your  ma 
chine  600  miles.  And  as  for  Peter,  he  will  content  himself 
pounding  iron  into  gold  and  silver  for  his  dear  old  mother. 
He  will  go  on  and  on  forever  to  the  same  tune,  of  course 
dreaming  now  and  then  of  his  fair  Christine  Vay  off  in 
icy  Alaska  buried  there  in  the  bottom  of  the  treacherous 
Windy  Arm,  for  so  it  will  be  reported.  We  all  turned 
under  and  we  will  all  be  reported  lost — we  two  with  the 
two  oarsmen  and  the  machine.  We  will  not  correct  this 
report  and  Peter  will  not  be  the  wiser.  The  ring  of  the 
steel  daily  in  his  ears  will  soon  drown  'Christine'  out  and 
he  will  whistle  the  same  lively  tune  of  yore.  I  am  sure, 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.D.  10? 

my  dear  Christine,  you  must  see  the  hand  of  some  ruling 
power  in  all  this." 

Then  the  bold  steersman,  having  touched  bottom,  knew 
they  were  drifting  ashore  and  safe.  Yet  he  recognized  the 
danger  of  losing  Christine,  and  accordingly  made  his  mas 
ter  stroke.  He  rocked  the  boat  to  frighten  her,  and  when 
she  clung  the  tighter  to  him  he  repeated  his  whole  lore  of 
love  and  made  Christine  believe  their  two  hearts  really 
beat  as  one ;  that  the  machine  was  the  mistake  of  her  life ; 
that  Peter  is  far  happier  in  single  blessedness.  Then  he 
again  rocked  her  almost  into  a  swoon,  and  Christine,  ir 
responsible,  faltered  a  feeble  "yes." 

In  the  waning  of  the  season  Christine  was  ensconced  in 
a  snug  little  cabin  on  Hunker  Creek,  there  baking  sour 
dough  bread,  frying  bacon,  boiling  beans,  making  tea — 
yes,  splitting  wood  and  carrying  water  for  her  liege  mas 
ter,  the  bad  steersman  of  Windy  Arm.  He  had  taken  a 
"lay"  on  Hunker  and  was  prospecting  the  claim.  Only 
15  cents  to  the  pan  is  yet  found,  which  after  paying  the 
owner  50  per  cent,  royalty  will  about  pay  wages.  This 
keeps  the  wolf  from  the  door,  but  no  milk  and  honey  goes 
with  it.  Nor  will  it  return  them  to  America  next  year. 
Yet  he  may  strike  it  richer  any  day,  and  this  hope  buoys 
him  up  and  on.  Not  so  poor  Christine.  Her  bold  steers 
man,  alas !  will  never  strike  anything  so  near  and  so  dear 
as  the  sound  of  her  old  lover  Peter's  hammer;  this  is 
ringing  in  her  ears  from  morn  till  eve.  Now  and  then  the 
pick  in  the  mine  beats  the  rocks,  and  in  this  she  hears 
and  feels  the  spirit  of  her  dear  old  lover  beating  a  doubly 
fierce  stroke  as  if  to  deaden  his  soul  against  his  woe.  She 
imagines  this  vibrates  even  up  to  Hunker  on  the  Klondike, 
and  she  holds  out  her  hands,  not  supplicating  him  to 
come  unto  her  and  deliver  her,  but  to  forgive  her  and 
forget. 


108  TEE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

SOCIETY    IN    DAWSON". 

Ah,  there,  Samuel!  Off  to  the  Pioneer  Club?  Sure. 
The  first  dance  of  the  season  was  the  Alaska  Press  Club. 
I  was  not  honored  with  an  invitation,  but  sneaked  in 
the  back  door  and  viewed  it  over  all  the  same.  And  what 
did  I  see?  All  sorts  of  funny  things.  About  five  hun 
dred  of  the  funniest  things  were  the  Press  Club  them 
selves.  "No,  not  five  hundred."  Well,  you  will  not  be 
lieve  how  many  newspaper  correspondents  are  or  were 
on  the  Klondike  this  first  rush.  Nor  will  you  believe 
what  a  race  of  men  in  a  race  for  fame,  and  a  race  for 
claims,  and  a  race  for  news,  and  a  race  for  the  biggest 
thing  in  wind,  and  a  race  for  first  outside  to  get  the 
said  stuff  first  in  their  own  special  bladder  publications, 
were  here  and  at  this  ball. 

There  was  Spleen  Hash,  of  the  San  Francisco  Gold 
Bug,  dancing  with  Siwash  George's  squaw;  the  Kansas 
City  Star  correspondent,  a  graceful  girl  in  full  dress, 
in  the  maze  of  a  waltz  with  "Nigger  Jim"  in  mucklucks, 
shirt-sleeves,  and  suspenders;  and  Jones,  of  the  P.  I., 
two-stepping  with  a  pretty  half-breed  whose  sweetheart 
danced  his  moccasins  off  in  a  jig  to  his  own  swearing; 
and — well,  the  society  editor  was  not  there  and  I  have 
no  copy  for  details. 

Next  on  board  was  the  Elks'  ball.  I  got  only  a  glimp§e 
of  this  brilliant  occasion.  Many  were  dressed  in  the  cus- 
tume  of  outside,  while  others  were  in  the  costumes  of  the 
country;  this  is  a  short  skirt,  mucklucks,  or  moccasins, 
and  a  parkee  of  moose  skin.  The  Elks  themselves — 
some  had  collar  and  tie  with  washed  hands.  Everything 
goes.  It  seems  everybody  here  dances.  Everybody  had 
to  dance  to  get  into  the  country  and  think  best  to  keep 
on  dancing  until  they  dance  out.  The  Elks,  of  course, 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  109 

gave  special  attention  to  the  native  moose  eaters,  who 
especially  love  dancing. 

The  Catholic  fair  for  the  hospital  was  a  society  event 
as  well  as  a  charity  affair.  The  usual  fair  attendants  were 
not  wanting.  Conspicuous  was  ice  cream  only  half  frozen 
solid.  Of  course  dancing  followed — we  take  to  it  as  we 
do  to  bacon  and  beans.  We  pay  in  dust  at  the  fair.  The 
fair  unfair  weigher,  cashier,  takes  our  "poke,"  puts  on 
the  scales  some  promiscuous  weights,  dumps  in  the  con 
tents,  and  hands  back  the  sack,  for  which  we  are  devoutly 
thankful. 

The  regular  weekly  Pioneer  dance  is  open  to  chee- 
chokers  with  respectable  antecedents;  terms,  $12  per  night. 
I  actually  saw  this  dance  break  up  at  9  A.M.  Some 
fair  women  are  here  with  us,  but  so  few  one  must  almost 
shoot  his  way  for  a  partner  in  any  event.  The  dukes  of 
Skookum,  the  Eldorado  kings,  and  the  Bonanza  chiefs 
monopolize  any  and  all  those  who  have  not  come  in  with 
husbands. 

There  are  some  breaths  of  select  airs  already  afloat.  I 
am  not  sure  how  long  the  squire's  wife,  or  the  judges, 
or  the  bishops  will  stand  up  against  the  wives  and  daugh 
ters  of  claimants  of  No.  —  Eldorado  or  Bonanza  or  Dis 
covery  on  Skookum  Jim  Pup,  even  though  these  may 
make  sad  music  with  their  h's  and  the  Siwash  linguism 
may  vibrate  harshly. 

HOME  COMPANIONS. 

"Ah,  little  mousie,  I  heard  you !  I  heard  you !" 
Through  the  night  long  there  was  that  busy,  industrious 
grinding,  that  pattering  of  little  feet,  that  rapid  transit, 
then  that  silent,  watchful  interim,  and  again  the  rasping 
and  rolling.  I  heard  and  did  not  fling  a  boot  or  a 


110  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

pillow.  Honest?  Yes.  The  old  instinct  was  to  hurl 
one  or  all  of  these,  but  my  bed  was  so  warm  and  the 
floor  so  cold  that  I  was  quite  willing  to  let  my  humanity 
get  the  better  of  me.  I  lay  there  and  listened  even  as 
my  flour  and  beans  and  sugar,  and  all  of  these  worth 
$1  per  pound,  melted  away  under  your  good  intentions 
and  most  strenuous  exertions.  Where,  oh,  where  did  you 
come  from,  little  mouse?  You  did  not  come  to  Klondike 
for  gold ;  you  are  not  here  the  old  associate  of  the  natives. 
You  are  too  neat  and  clean  for  that,  too  industrious. 
Whence  came  you  and  what  is  your  mission?  I  am  from 
home  now  these  six  months,  and  did  you  steal  upon  me 
to  make  this  night  ever  so  chilly,  lingering  to  make  it 
homelike?  You  rouse  up  courage  in  me  and  drive  off 
dull  despair.  Go  on,  go  on,  dear  little  associate,  in  your 
gay  f eastings.  Forget  we  were  once  enemies  by  force 
of  circumstances,  and  believe  me  we  will  be  best  of  friends 
by  force  of  favors.  Yes,  yes,  little  mousie;  you  rock 
me  to  sleep,  even  with  the  rustle  and  bustle  in  my  sugar- 
barrel.  I  am  in  dreamland.  "Oh,  there's  that  wicked 
little  mousie.  It  is  among  my  chestnuts.  Christmas  is 
coming,  too.  Oh,  kill  it!  Now  it  is  in  my  hickory-nut 
bag.  Get  out,  you  horrid  thing!  Yes,  mamma,  it  won't 
leave  my  things  alone  and  leave  me  to  sleep." 

CHRISTMAS    ON    THE    KLONDIKE. 

Christmas!  "And  did  you  really  have  Christmas  on 
the  Klondike?  Sure?  And  a  Christmas  tree?  And  a 
plum  pudding  and  turkey  dinner?"  Well,  ye?,  some  of 
us  really  had.  The  Christmas  trees  were  few  and  scantily 
arrayed,  but  we  had  some  great  dinners.  Of  course  we 
had  no  eggs  up  there  this  winter,  and  no  cows,  nor  oysters, 
nor  cranberries,  nor  candies  of  any  sort  or  size,  nor  nuts 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  HI 

and  sweet  cider,  nor  popcorn,  nor  Christmas  cards,  nor 
whistles  and  horns  and  skates,  nor  sleigh-bells  and  horses ; 
and  other  things  part  and  parcel  of  Christmas  at  home 
were  missing  here;  still  we  had  a  little  Christmas  in  our 
own  good  way.  I  saw  several  youths  take  their  best  girls 
out  sleighing  with  a  dog  team,  and  I  saw  some  men  who 
had  been  drinking  "Tom  and  Jerry" !  And  there  was  a 
Christmas  ball  and  there  were  church  services.  We  had, 
too,  some  Christmas  dinners  that  may  astonish  you  as 
coming  from  a  famine  country  up  at  the  mines  on  Eldo 
rado.  I  have  a  picture  of  a  dinner  given  by  some  friends 
of  mine.  They  pooled  their  genius  as  cooks,  each  donating 
the  several  dishes  in  which  they  excelled.  They  had 
stored  away  some  fresh  moose  for  the  occasion;  they 
had  run  across  a  neighbor  with  a  bag  of  grouse,  a  winter 
species  which  inhabit  here,  and  he  gave  them  a  share  of 
his  shoot.  One  of  the  quarto  has  a  widespread  reputation 
on  "sour  dough"  bread  and  he  provided  a  fair  sample. 
The  bill  of  fare  ran  about  thus:  Bean  soup;  fried 
salmon  belly ;  broiled  moose  steak  with  evaporated  onions ; 
roast  beans  with  bacon;  canned  cabbage  with  pig's  jowl; 
roast  grouse  stuffed  with  peas  and  granulated  potatoes; 
tomatoes,  cheese,  pie,  cake — a  bona  fide  plum  cake,  and 
oh !  such  a  great  cake  it  was  I  weep  over  it  yet. 

Then  my  neighbor  Soggs,  who  is  not  a  cook  nor  a 
baker,  but  lives  to  eat  and  truly  picks  all  sorts  of  points 
for  his  palate,  had  a  Christmas  dinner  all  by  and  for 
himself,  but  he  let  me  in  to  taste  it.  He  came  in  the 
country  late  with  a  light  outfit,  but  by  industry  and 
rustle  had  fattened  up  his  larder  beyond  possibilities  of 
many  of  the  rest  of  us.  He  makes  his  own  bread,  as 
everything  else;  he  let  me  look  on,  willing  to  donate  any 
little  crumbs  I  might  pick  up. 

"No,"  he  says,  "I  have  not  begun  dinner  yet,  but  I 


112  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

can  get  it  up  complete  in  half  an  hour.     My  bread  is 
baked." 

Then  he  took  down  his  bucket  of  sour  dough  and  began 
operations.  First  he  poured  into  a  dish  and  stiffened 
enough  for  dumplings;  this  he  set  to  boiling  with  a  stew 
of  moose  meat.  Another  lot  he  shortened  for  pie  crust, 
which  at  a  later  stage  he  plastered  his  plate  with;  then 
he  minced  up  dried  apple,  apricots,  prunes,  raisins,  mixed 
them  rapidly,  and  filling  the  plate  made  a  covering  of 
batter.  It  took  a  place  in  the  oven.  Then  graham  gems 
popped  up  out  of  the  same  batter  bucket  and  a  little 
later  a  big  ginger  cake.  He  believed  he  had  almost 
enough,  as  he  did  not  care  to  sit  long  at  the  dinner, 
not  having  any  gossipy  friend,  nor  cigar.  But  oh,  my! 
that  moose  pie !  It  haunts  me  still.  And  the  gems !  Each 
one  was  a  nugget.  The  pie — he  gave  me  of  the  pie  to 
taste,  and  I  am  speechless  in  the  matter  of  portraying  the 
pie.  Try  it,  try  it,  anybody,  the  combination  of  fruits 
and  the  plan  of  building.  Nothing  turned  out  of  that 
one  little  "sour  dough"  bucket  but  seemed  hashed  up 
for  a  feast  for  the  gods.  "No  hand-outs  for  the  merry 
Christmas  to  the  kids?"  No.  No  kids  called,  and  I 
have  not  seen  a  ginger  snap  since  in  the  country.  I  do 
wonder  if  I  can  learn  to  make  them.  I  will  go  in  to 
Soggs,  my  next-door  neighbor,  and  say  unto  him:  "I  am 
starving  in  these  foreign  parts  for  ginger  snaps  and  there 
are  none  in  the  land.  I  come  unto  you,  for  your  house 
is  full  of  ways  and  means,  and  I  need  not  want  for 
ginger  snaps  if  you  will  give  me  the  recipe  and  the 
coaching  necessary  to  make  them."  Of  course  I  will 
have  Vay-up  ginger  snaps  from  the  present  writing. 

You  people  'way  off  in  the  south,  keep  your  weather 
eye  open  for  the  Klondike  cook  book.  I  will  offer  to  the 
public  a  Vay-up  breakfast  gotten  up  in  three  minutes; 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  113 

a  good  dinner  in  thirty  minutes;  a  swell  party  Christ 
mas  dinner,  without  the  usual  requisites — eggs,  cream, 
oysters,  turkeys,  fruits,  lemons.  It  will  make  pork  and 
beans  palatable;  show  you  how  to  economize  cold  cakes, 
burnt  cakes,  sour  bread;  how  to  obscure  horse  meat  and 
incorporate  it  into  caribou  for  select  company ;  how  to 
make  a  relish  of  salt  salmon  belly  which  will  say  "Ugh !" 
to  lobsters;  which  will  show  how  to  keep  house  in  great 
shape  without  kitchen  furniture  or  cooking  utensils. 

EGGS. 

Among  the  big  heads  and  big  dealers  in  Dawson  one 
finds  big-fool  results  often.  Last  year  the  eggs  of  the 
N.  A.  T.  Company  arrived  here  packed  in  salt.  They 
came  in  fresh,  and  I  have  it  from  first  hand — or  mouth 
— that  the  restaurateur  sold  his  single  egg  for  $1  and 
had  a  ready  market  until  he  laid  his  last  egg  in  its  little 
dollar  nest;  then,  after  crowing  just  a  few  times  over 
it,  he  had  to  shut  his  shop,  for  beans  and  bacon  would 
not  down  without  an  egg.  The  salt,  too,  was  in  it  so 
far  as  the  trading  company  fared,  not  the  restaurateurs, 
for  the  salt  brought  its  15  cents  per  pound  as  readily 
as  the  egg  its  dollar.  In  fact,  the  N".  A.  T.  Company 
had  a  safe  investment — "quick  sales  and  big  profits" — in 
eggs.  Never  yet  was  a  thing  invented,  or  grown,  or  made 
too  good  for  the  American  trader  nor  half  good  enough 
in  profits  for  the  present-day  corporations.  This  year 
the  leading  lights  at  the  Chicago  end  of  the  N.  A.  T. 
Company  did  not  pack  its  eggs  in  salt.  Did  the  $1 
each  and  15  cents  for  salt  at  the  Dawson  end  look  too 
small?  I  give  it  up.  As  far  as  I  can  learn  he  had 
hatched  in  his  own  head  a  new  scheme,  a  unique  one, 
which  must  be  tried  at  the  expense  of  his  company  as 


114  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

likewise  at  the  expense  of  we  hungry,  fastidious  mortals 
looking  down  the  Yukon  for  the  eggs'  arrival.  He  had 
each  and  every  egg  electrocuted,  then  packed,  then  shipped. 
The  modus  operandi  I  cannot  give,  for  the  original  in 
ventor  has  not  given  it  to  us;  no  doubt  he  has  a  caveat 
upon  the  process  in  the  Patent  Office.  Nor  can  I  explain 
the  different  rights  and  titles,  the  claims  thereto,  nor 
the  profits  to  be  realized  therefrom.  Whether  an  object 
was  to  kill  and  preserve  by  the  electric  volt  the  little 
chicks  already  within  the  shell  and  sell  them  to  the 
restaurateur,  and  through  him  to  us  old-timers,  for  spring 
chickens ;  whether  to  only  prevent  their  growth  and  propa 
gation  under  the  summer  sun  of  the  Klondike,  which 
hatches  mosquitoes  at  a  temperature  of  120°  above;  or 
whether  some  damphool  had  assured  him  the  electric  shock 
would  kill  all  microbes  within  or  likely  to  get  through 
the  shell,  and  thereby  preserve  the  egg  fresh  for  time  and 
evermore,  to  make  it  quite  worth  the  dollar  which  it 
would  command  right  here  in  camp,  I  know  one  thing 
only:  the  eggs  duly  arrived  on  the  company's  swell  boat 
Hamilton.  No  remarks  were  made,  no  protests.  They 
were  stored  in  the  company's  most  elaborate  warehouse. 
No  kicks  came.  Slowly  and  by  degrees  there  was  an 
unusual  congregation  of  Siwash  dogs  about  that  ware 
house  door.  Then  the  employees  tried  to  shorten  their 
hours  within  the  doors  of  that  special  warehouse.  Finally 
Captain  Healey  began  to  swear;  then  everybody  knew 
something  serious  was  turned  up.  In  short,  the  Siwash 
Indians,  used  to  foul  fish  and  stinking  things  of  all  sorts, 
were  paid  extra  wages  to  carry  out  upon  the  banks  of 
the  Yukon  the  eggs  in  their  nice  labeled,  extra  finished 
boxes,  with  the  electrocuted  chicks,  microbes,  and  also, 
I  fear,  hopes  and  fortunes  of  the  great  inventor  of 
Chicago. 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  115 


DOGS. 

Dogs  are  legal  tender  on  the  Klondike;  not  only  on 
the  Klondike,  but  up  and  down  the  Yukon  and  over  all 
Alaska.  The  winter  of  1897-98  was  especially  memorable 
in  the  matter  of  our  obligations  to  dogs,  for  in  them  was 
placed  our  dependence  to  run  away  from  starvation,  as 
also  we  hoped  much  from  them  for  supplies  and  for  re 
lief  in  general.  It  was  heralded  that  the  home  govern 
ment  was  succeeding  the  arbitrary  police  administration 
by  a  branch  of  its  own  civil  rule,  a  governor-general  and 
his  staff.  But  these  did  not  come  in.  Why?  Dispatches 
said  they  were  encamped  on  the  headwaters  of  the  Yukon 
and  could  not  move  because  they  had  lost  a  pack  of  dogs, 
and  the  message  incidentally  mentioned:  "Also  some 
mounted  police  were  drowned  with  the  dogs/3  Thus  we 
see  the  wheels  of  government  resting  upon  dogs.  And 
later  experience  has  demonstrated  that  never  since  has 
the  government  of  the  Klondike  been  on  so  solid  and  so 
respectable  a  foundation. 

During  this  season  thoroughbred  dogs  were  worth  from 
$300  up  and  half  as  much  for  scrubs.  Thoroughbred  is 
as  distinctive  here  in  dog  as  in  horseflesh  outside.  Thor 
oughbreds  here  are  the  malamuth,  a  native  Eskimo  inbred 
somewhere  and  much  larger  than  the  common,  and  a 
Hudson  Bay  Company  dog,  the  husky,  with  very  much 
wolf  in  his  make-up. 

There  are  many  outside  dogs  here,  which  include  Great 
Danes,  Newfoundland,  shepherd,  the  "yellow  dog"  and 
pet  dogs.  Very  few  of  these  last,  however,  for  not  many 
of  us  are  willing  to  amuse  our  women  and  children  with 
dogs  eating  food  at  $1  per  pound.  These  out-country 
dogs  make  good  work  dogs,  quite  as  good  to  pull  and  as 
strong  as  natives  if  well  trained,  but  their  feet  do  not 


116  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

stand  the  work  as  well  and  they  need  more  or  less  pro 
tection  from  extreme  cold.  They  also  must  be  fed  more 
carefully,  needing  much  the  same  mess  we  take  our 
selves  on  the  trail,  only  we  can  palm  off  upon  them  a  sec 
ond  quality.  Food  a  little  burned  or  a  little  sour  or  a 
little  sad  may  be  fooled  upon  the  dogs  and  never  a  word 
said. 

The  natives  work  and  feed  well  upon  fish  alone  and 
with  but  one  meal  a  day,  yet  when  so  kept  they  show  it  to 
be  rather  hard  times  by  their  poverty  flat  sides  and 
scrubby  furs.  "Dog  mushers"  of  our  own  race  keep 
much  better  and  finer  teams  than  do  the  Indians.  Al 
though  the  Indians  may  have  well-bred  dogs,  they  show 
their  associations  and  their  feeding.  A  dog  fancier  could 
write  a  book  upon  the  material  and  could  talk  dog  with 
as  much  fluency  and  gusto  as  the  jockey  can  dilate  upon 
the  thoroughbred  racer.  But  aside  from  his  being  the 
beast  of  burden  in  this  country,  he  is  the  same  miserable 
cur  in  many  of  his  spare  moments  and  in  many  of  his 
parts  as  you  find  him  at  home — in  your  neighbor's  dog, 
of  course. 

Dogs,  like  horses,  vary  in  their  capacities.  Size,  of 
course,  tells,  but  his  pulling  is  not  wholly  weight;  like 
in  a  horse,  'tis  blood.  Now  and  then  we  see  trotting  along 
a  wee  bit  of  a  whiffet  with  a  sled  and  a  great  big  duffer 
thereon,  maybe  an  Indian,  maybe  a  self-styled  white  man. 
Scores  of  miners  have  one  dog;  this  for  company  to  some 
extent,  but  chiefly  for  use.  In  the  winter  season  one  dog 
in  a  sled  with  the  man  at  the  gee-pole  will  carry  from 
200  to  400  pounds.  One  dog  cannot  pull  nearly  as  much 
as  one  man  at  a  hard  scratch,  but  their  good  work  comes 
in  this  way:  He  will  pull  all  the  time.  Should  I  be 
carrying  my  worldly  possessions  or  freighting  my  spring 
clean-up  to  Dawson,  I  would  ptrll  hard  at  every  hill  and 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  117 

pull  along  over  up  grade,  but  at  down  grade  or  on  a  level 
I  would  spell  myself  and  let  poor  "mush"  continue  the 
burden.  The  continual  drag  and  the  rapid  gait — dog 
trot — make  dog  teams  count  in  freighting.  Six  dogs  will 
not  pull  more  than  half  a  ton,  but  they  will  make  two 
trips  to  the  horse's  one.  I  hired  a  no-get-up  Englishman 
with  a  one-horse  sled  to  haul  me  some  wood.  It  was 
less  than  two  miles,  good  sledding,  no  hills,  no  obstacles, 
and  by  the  hour  it  cost  me  $25  per  cord;  then  a  team  of 
dogs  finished  the  contract  for  $20.  For  plain  freighting 
or  traveling  the  dog  is  'way  ahead  of  the  cayuse  or  mule, 
aside  from  his  convenience. 

Dogs  are  smart,  we  all  know;  being  smart  they  are 
tricky;  being  tricky  they  are  cussed;  being  cussed 
there  is  no  end  to  the  fool  things  they  may  do.  They 
start  and  liven  up  under  the  startling  command  "mush!" 
They  gee  or  haw  as  the  old  plow  horse  of  the  Dutch 
farmer.  They  whoa — sometimes — when  you  make  the 
kind  suggestion.  A  lady  in  to  see  me  but  to-day  said  she 
went  up  to  stake  on  Nine  Mile,  and  her  dogs  ran  away, 
leaving  her  to  walk  a  distance  wbjch  exhausted  her. 

"Yes,"  she  says,  "these  dogs  know  when  women  are 
behind  them,  and  just  as  soon  as  the  sled  upset  and  we 
fell  off  they  ran.  Twice  they  got  away  from  us  and  were 
caught  on  the  claims  up  the  creek.  If  we  go  in  a  basket 
sleigh  from  which  we  do  not  fall  out  the  dogs  always  stop 
upon  its  overturning,  for  they  know  they  cannot  then 
get  away,  but  if  from  a  common  sled  we  roll  off  and  out 
of  reach,  maybe  down  the  bank,  then  they  do  run." 

The  dogs  on  the  Klondike  are  almost  universally  hitched 
in  single  file,  and  they  all  file  around  the  turns  and  crooks 
and  between  trees  and  about  stumps  without  stopping  to 
consider  circumstances,  and  when  one  is  riding  the  sled 
with  no  person  at  the  gee-pole  to  guide,  then  the  sled  is 


118  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

continually  floundering  about,  upsetting  and  snubbing. 
When  a  young  fellow  takes  his  best  girl  out  sleigh-riding 
he  must  run  the  dogs  at  the  gee-pole,  or  if  he  is  swell  and 
has  a  basket  sleigh,  then  run  behind,  guiding  from  the 
handle  back  of  the  sleigh.  He  by  no  manner  or  means 
suggests  to  himself  the  privilege  of  riding  with  his  sweet 
heart.  Yes,  from  over  the  rail  behind  may  come  some 
tender  soft  wooing,  but  with  her  Eskimo  hood  of  skins 
and  furs  possibly  not  one  little  coo  startles  the  drum  of 
her  padded  ear;  and  were  he  to  be  running  at  the  gee- 
pole  he  would  fare  no  better,  for  his  glance  would  only 
rest  upon  the  same  furs  and  feathers  without  penetrating 
within.  He  must  not  be  caught  napping  at  his  post, 
dreaming,  sighing,  for  perchance  here  comes  a  team  down 
the  trail,  and  should  the  two  take  a  turn  to  the  same  side, 
Miss  Daisy  will  take  a  tumble  to  herself  which  her  lover 
will  scarcely  be  able  to  adjust.  Yes,  they  will  sometimes, 
quite  frequently  indeed,  intermix,  especially  turning  cor 
ners  and  on  curves.  Still  worse,  they  often,  in  passing, 
pile  up  in  a  wholesale  dog  fight,  the  whole  team  of  each  part 
and  party,  all  hitched  and  tangled  into  the  worst  imagina 
ble  football  mass.  And  were  it  you,  my  dear  friend,  what 
would  you  do  about  it  if  your  girl  was  wound  and  bound 
and  doubled  up  and  piled  up  into  a  big  writhing  mass 
of  dogs  and  sleds  and  furs?  Why,  you  would  say,  "The 
Lord  have  mercy  on  my  soul/'  and  proceed  to  pound  the 
dogs  over  the  head  and  pry  open  their  jaws,  for  these 
Eskimos  are  wolfish  and  game.  Then  you  would  hunt 
up  the  bundle  and  unravel  it.  Maybe  she  is  frightened, 
maybe  laughing,  but  you  would  not  laugh,  for  here  is  a 
dump  of  ruins.  Her  robe,  worth  $200,  her  parkee,  $100, 
her  hood,  $50 — all  these  will  be  ruined  and  you  will 
have  to  replace  them.  A  freighter  will  run  a  load  up 
the  Klondike  district  or  over  any  broken  tract  from 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  119 

twenty  to  forty  miles  and  back  the  next  day.  He  uses 
the  dogs  about  as  he  would  use  his  horses  as  to  rest  and 
feed  and  work.  Going  out  of  the  country  during  the 
winter  is  usually  a  matter  of,  say,  three  to  four  dogs  to 
three  men.  These  will  carry  for  each  man  his  total  out 
fit,  which  must  be  limited  to  125  pounds;  added  is  the 
dog  feed,  which  must  be  two  pounds  per  day  for  each  dog. 
The  trip  may  be  made  in  thirty  days,  but  forty-five  days 
is  the  more  general  time.  Men  going  out  must  help  their 
dogs — must  go  ahead  to  break  trail  if  blown  shut,  and  do 
the  heavy  pulling  over  snow  banks  and  ice  drifts.  The 
man  who  cannot  hitch  himself  to  and  be  dog,  in  fact,  had 
better  stay  in  and  go  down  and  out  on  a  dog  raft  in  the 
spring. 

Dogs  make  very  good  pack  animals  and  are  used  no  little 
bit  for  such  purpose,  especially  in  summer;  in  fact,  it  is 
the  only  way  to  utilize  them  in  the  summer.  They  are 
easily  disabled  by  overloading.  They  cut  up  the  same 
funny  freaks  under  pack-saddles  as  they  do  in  harness, 
never  quite  forgetting  they  are  dogs,  born  for  the  chase, 
for  fighting,  for  food  of  all  sorts  and  kinds  and  in  all 
seasons,  and  it  looks  to  me  also  for  fun.  Last  summer 
Bill  Bludson  was  working  a  bar  claim  Vay  up  on  a  "pup" 
of  Forty  Mile.  These  bar  and  bench  claims  we  work 
during  summer.  Billy's  claim  was  in  the  wilderness,  and 
before  making  his  fall  clean-up  he  was  down  to  the  town 
and  borrowed  from  his  old  friends  some  dogs  to  help 
pack.  He  had  a  glorious  summer  and  a  clean-up  made 
glorious  by  the  sum  and  substance  of  his  gold  sacks. 
Down  the  gulch  he  comes  as  jubilant  as  if  his  path  was 
gold,  whistling  "When  the  cows  come  home/'  and  his  four 
dogs  panting  under  their  great  weight — two  heavy  gold 
sacks  straddling  the  back  of  each.  Just  at  the  highest 
chord  of  his  musical  march  a  jack  rabbit  bounced  up  and 


120  THE  DECLINE  AND  PALL  OF 

oil  into  the  wilderness.  Billy  and  the  whole  Desdemonu 
might  bellow  whoa  and  make  Hell's  Half  Acre  noisy  with 
their  voices,  but  they  could  no  more  stop  this  pack  of 
Eskimos  after  a  mad  hare  than  they  could  walk  up  over  the 
aurora  borealis.  But  I  am  happy  to  chronicle  that  Billy 
made  a  second  clean-up  which  exactly  balanced  the  first. 
One  dog  was  caught  under  a  fallen  tree,  another  had  top 
pled  over  on  his  back  and  his  great  bag  held  him  down, 
and  so  on  till  all  were  corraled. 

Dogs  do  not  bark  in  Alaska.  There  is  no  bark  in  a 
native  dog,  while  outside  dogs  want  to  ape  the  old-timers 
or  else  are  ashamed  to  give  themselves  away  as  chee- 
chokers.  Maybe  they  are  actually  ashamed  of  the  low, 
onery  association  which  it  carries  them  back  to.  You  see 
they  are  now  "the  noble  beast,"  and  their  walk  and  con 
versation  must  be  in  accordance  therewith.  But  oh!  oh! 
oh !  Deliver  me  from  the  prevailing  social  system  among 
these  dogs.  I  need  not  recall  to  you  that  much  wolf  ex 
ists  in  these  native  dogs.  Then  as  a  form  of  communica 
tion,  for  ebullition  of  fellow-feeling,  or  for  self-amuse 
ment,  maybe  for  cussedness,  you  have  their  howl,  their 
weird  bellow,  their  piercing  cry,  their  shrill  tongue,  with 
all  the  echoes  of  these  from  the  surrounding  hills  and 
caverns  in  a  blending,  a  most  excruciating  combination — 
these  with  the  corrupted  bark  of  the  non-linguists  in  any 
and  every  pitch  interwoven,  this  pooling  of  discord  and 
hideousness  weaves  a  web  of  agony  that  I  cannot  picture. 

LETTERS. 

Samuel  Sawbones  stood  three  days  in  the  line  before 
the  post-office  door,  but  could  not  reach  the  inner  temple. 
He  gave  up  the  race  and  sent  through  one  of  the  devious 
ways  a  five-dollar  piece  to  the  postmaster  and  promptly 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  121 

received  his  first  home  missive.  It  was  full  of  all  sorts 
of  news,  and  blessings,  and  promises,  and  queries.  The 
dear,  good  Nella  was  solicitous  in  the  extreme  for  him 
in  any  and  all  parts,  but  was  quite  undemonstrative  in 
all  care  or  anxiety  about  herself.  This  was  in  striking 
contrast  to  her  early  letters.  She  gave  no  demonstrations 
of  dying  because  of  his  absence.  She  did  not  pray  for 
advice  as  to  what  she  should  do  to  occupy  her  mind  and 
relieve  it  from  longing.  She  exhibited  evidence  of  having 
quite  enough  to  do  to  drive  off  ennui.  She  had,  in  fact, 
kept  on  making  innovations  upon  poor  man;  was  taking 
on  all  rites  and  ceremonies  of  the  new  woman  as  fast 
as  conscience  would  allow  them  to  ripen.  Not  all  this 
was  confided  to  the  dear  doctor,  but  enough  to  make 
his  reflections  anything  but  happy. 

Of  course  she  was  coming  to  the  Klondike  with  the 
first  wave  of  spring,  and  she  would  outfit  according  to 
the  details  of  his  experience,  yet  she  had  suggestions  of 
her  own.  If  they  pleased  him  she  might  carry  them 
through.  Samuel  could  read  that  the  girl  was  becoming 
tainted,  first  by  worldly  people,  then  by  worldly  vanities, 
again  by  the  world's  disgruntlers.  He  observed  that  she 
was  experienced  enough  to  not  need  a  chaperone  or  guide 
and  protector;  that  she  would  outfit  as  to  comfort  and 
utility  without  reservation;  that  she  had  lost  scruples 
against  rustling  and  laying  up  treasure  here  below  in  any 
and  all  the  mysterious  ways  of  the  present  world.  Her 
tender  passions  broke  out  here  and  there  in  the  letters, 
but  not  many  tear-drops  obscured  the  pages.  She  was 
curious  to  know  the  political  aspect  of  the  country  and 
as  to  church  work  and  the  state  of  society.  I  wrote  out 
"Society  in  Dawson"  for  Sawbones,  while  he  himself 
chronicled  how  the  churches  of  the  Lord  cannot  stand 
up  against  the  Klondikers — that  both  were  in  ashes. 


122  TEE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

She  gave  quite  a  bit  of  her  private  life,  which  was  in 
deed  pure  and  sweet — something  of  the  old  past;  but  in 
the  domestic  events  of  her  neighbors  and  acquaintances  it 
was  painful  for  Samuel  to  read  a  "thank-the-Lord-I-am- 
not-like-other-women"  spirit  therein.  However,  all  Samuel 
thought  was:  "How  good  she  is  and  how  good  I  can 
make  her."  I  fear  that  at  the  same  time  she  was  think 
ing:  "How  good  Samuel  is  and  how  much  better  I  will 
make  him."  Why,  of  course  she  loves  him  still,  but 
when  a  woman  begins  to  love  herself,  when  she  becomes 
ambitious,  worldly,  covetous  of  fame  and  admiration,  she 
draws  upon  the  love  she  may  have  or  ought  to  have  in 
vested  in  some  noble  manhood.  And  if  Sawbones'  sweeet- 
heart  had  not  withdrawn  much  of  the  original  love  in 
vested  in  some  noble  manhood.  And  if  Sawbones'  sweet- 
had  not  withheld  all  the  old  affection  and  bestowed  it 
in  mutual  admiration  upon  her  woman's  rights  kin,  she 
would  still  be  properly  and  delightfully  hanging  around 
Sawbones'  neck  and  wooing  him  to  a  lovely,  virtuous 
heart. 

Samuel  Sawbones  was  taking  a  breathing  spell  between 
his  letters  to  Nella.  The  dark  side  of  affairs  of  Dawson 
this  winter  was  reflecting  upon  him,  for  though  he  was 
well  grub  staked  for  the  season,  he  yet  knew  any  suffering 
and  hunger  would  appeal  to  him  among  the  first  for  re 
lief,  and  to  succor  distress  is  about  as  much  misery  as 
to  suffer  it.  The  first  letter  in  over  the  ice  was  duly 
answered  and  at  length.  All  the  details  for  her  trip 
were  given,  all  the  demands  of  the  journey  and  the  camp 
were  listed,  the  future  possibilities  were  recited  to  a  nicety. 
Due  credit  and  thanks  were  returned  for  the  love  and 
kindness  showered  upon  him,  and  no  comments  offered 
on  the  pending  crisis — her  transition  from  true  woman 
hood  to  crude,  duplex  woman's  might  woman's  right. 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.D.  123 

Simple  Samuel  still  believed  he  could  fit  the  fair  girl 
of  his  first  adventure  with  goggles  through  which  she 
could  see  only  herself  and  not  the  amazons  by  which 
she  had  been  beleaguered  since  his  departure.  Poor 
chap !  You  ought  to  have  experienced  that  when  woman 
once  gets  the  bit  in  her  mouth,  like  with  the  runaway, 
you  may  as  well  let  up  on  the  reins.  But  the  hope 
helped  him  through  the  weary  nights,  and  he  never  lost 
his  cheerfulness  or  his  usefulness.  Everybody  in  camp 
shaped  his  or  her  ends  only  for  the  coming  spring  and 
the  coming  friends  and  foods. 

Scattering  mails  found  their  way  into  Dawson — now 
and  then  a  government  mail,  oftener  private  mails,  and 
these  brought  Samuel  Sawbones,  Esq.,  M.D.,  more  letters. 
These  two  questions  were  proposed  in  one:  Is  riding  the 
bicycle  by  women  conducive  to  health?  Is  riding  horse 
back  astride  the  proper  thing?  The  doctor  would  not 
commit  himself  in  answering.  "For,"  said  he  in  the  letter, 
"medical  men  disagree,  and  I  will  not  presume  upon  wis 
dom  that  will  demolish  either  section.  Except  where  the 
solicitor  is  ill  she  will  not  accept  the  advice.  Healthy 
women  can  almost  to  a  unit  ride  the  bicycle  without  in 
jury  to  themselves,  but  sick  women  never.  As  to  riding 
horseback  astride  I  cannot  advise  seriously,  because  of  the 
comic  picture  the  subject  presents.  I  have  always  in  mind, 
upon  seeing  a  woman  with  her  short,  dumpy  legs  astride 
a  horse,  the  monkey  riding  the  ring  horse  in  the  circus. 
In  faith,  I  do  believe  it  is  only  a  laughing  matter  and 
not  one  of  health." 

In  another  letter  came  the  consideration  of  a  kinder 
garten.  "Shall  I  start  a  kindergarten  in  Dawson  ?"  "Oh, 
no !  Oh,  Lord,  no !  Have  you  not  learned,  can  you  not 
see  that  the  little  folks  of  to-day  are  'way  beyond  their 
limits?  Do  you  not  see  them  absorbing  time  and  atten- 


124  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

tion  and  expense  quite  beyond  justice  and  good  taste? 
Do  you  not  observe  them  occupying  a  position  that  good 
breeding  hoots  at?     Do  you  not  see  simple  mothers  all 
about  you  giving  the  labor  and  love  of  a  wife  exclusively 
to  her  children,  giving  the  bread  and  butter  of  the  family 
out  for  furs  and  feathers  for  them?    Do  you  not  see  the 
children  of  to-day  paraded  for  show,  pushed  before  audi 
ences  for  admiration,  and  shoved  among  friends  for  dis 
tinction?    The  nursery  is  the  primary  school  for  this,  but 
the  kindergarten  is  the  finishing  academy.    You  know  very 
well  it  makes  them  only  babbling,  chattering  geese;  it 
fills  their  little  craniums  with  only  a  batch  of  pictures 
which  they  show  off  as  beforehand  to  mamma  and  her 
admiring  friends,  but  never  a  bit  of  brain  tissue  does 
it  grow.     This  is  all  wrong — this  making  a  little  store 
house  out  of  the  little  one's  brain,  this  filling  it  up  with 
all  the  child-lore  that  sounds  so  cute  to  us,  so  sweet  to 
the  dear  mother,  and  makes  it  so  precocious-appearing  to 
its  audiences.     This  trammels  the  wee  one's  brain;  ob 
structs  its  real  thinking,  growing  capacity;  destroys  its 
capacity  as  workshop.    Oh,  yes — it  does  make  them  smart. 
And  the  end-man  of  the  minstrels — how  smart!     What 
a  smart  thing  that  magpie  is,  with  his  tongue  split !    How 
cute  the  parrot  is !     No,  no.     Let  the  little  ones  go  along 
thinking  for  themselves.    Don't  cram  them  full  of  fanciful 
thoughts  of  your  own;  that  way  they  will  never  learn  to 
think   and  invent  and  work  for  themselves.     It  seems 
plodding,  but  a  little  later  in  life  you  will  notice  the 
great  strides  they  take,  and  how  they  will  outstrip  the  pre 
cocious  outputs  of  the  kindergarten.     Now  I  say,  my  dear 
girl,  do  not  lend  yourself  to  any  of  the  fads  of  the  day 
unless  you  see  in  them  wisdom  and  worth — not  because 
of  their  fancy  and  favor.     Of  course  I  recognize  the  fact 
that  the  kindergarten  has  come  to  stay  and  that  it  is 


BAMUHL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  125 

becoming  recognized  as  a  legitimate  institution.  Yes, 
I  learned  years  ago  that  the  quack  doctor  had  come  to 
stay  and  that  the  strongest  arms  of  our  law  cannot  boost 
him.  I  nevertheless  advise,  steer  clear.  I  have  observed 
after  many  years  that  the  bright  particular  star  in  the 
childhood  group  seldom  is  the  shining  light  that  leads 
the  busy  throng  through  the  age.  Possibly  the  great  men 
have  not  self-made  men  in  predominance,  but  certainly  the 
great  majority  were  not  kindergarten,  smart,  precocious, 
youthful  geniuses  like  these  to-day,  aspiring  through  their 
mothers  and  dear  teachers  to  enlighten  the  world.  In  a 
group  of  six  American  medical  men  I  met  looking  on 
at  the  London  clinics,  five  were  farmer  lads  in  youth. 
This  means  that  the  slow-plodding  boy  of  the  plow  who 
obtained  his  education  under  difficulties  never  lets  go  his 
industry;  that  the  necessary  habits  of  work  and  perse 
verance  culminate  in  ambition,  and  this  ever  goes  on. 
These  five  men  of  the  six  studied  and  worked  and  still 
study  and  work,  and  they  are  over  here  in  London  because 
they  will  never  leave  anything  undone.  This  illustrates 
the  starting-point  of  the  winners  of  the  great  race  over 
life's  course.  It  is  not  the  nicely  groomed,  fanciful  man 
nered,  brilliantly  tutored  kid  that  leads  the  race  except 
as  the  minority. 

"What  I  have  said  concerning  the  kindergarten  output 
is  preliminary  to  a  yet  more  serious  aspect  society  is  rapidly 
taking  on.  That  a  mother's  ambition  and  emulation  may 
be  gratified  she  sacrifices — ignorantly,  of  course — the  future 
of  her  child  and  at  the  same  time  her  own  physical  ancl 
moral  health.  That  she  may  decorate,  pamper,  and  edu 
cate,  as  she  veritably  believes,  her  child,  she  institutes  a 
life  crusade  against  increase  of  the  family.  It  is  quite 
seldom  we  find  a  young  family  of  to-day  which  numbers 
more  than  two  or  three  children,  and  in  these  families 


126  TUE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

we  find  the  determination  to  make  that  the  limit.  Only 
because  we  cannot  educate  and  raise  them,  they  say,  as  our 
neighbors'  children  are  dressed  and  schooled,  do  we  object 
to  more.  And  then  what?  Ask  the  poor,  honest,  scrupu 
lous  doctor.  He  will  tell  you  in  rending  tones  that  his 
life  is  made  miserable  by  these  people.  I  need  not  explain, 
for  you  may  know,  that  the  matter  of  having  or  not  having 
children  is  not  controlled  by  any  legitimate  or  moral  law 
within  the  invocation  of  the  family  concerned.  Nor  can 
any  healthy  moral  prescription  be  given  by  the  doctor: 
yet  they  fly  to  him.  Here  they  beg  and  pray,  and  when 
one  most  dreadful  law  of  the  ten  is  read  to  them,  'Thou 
shalt  not  murder/  they  sometimes  threaten:  CI  will  go 
to  Dr.  Public  Executioner.  You  know  he  will  do  this 
thing/  Yes,  I  know,  we  all  know,  from  the  bloody  trail. 
Once  in  his  hands  they  are  ashamed,  and  in  one  of  two 
ways  they  never  return  to  the  old  family  Sawbones.  I 
dare  not  picture  how  strong  a  hold  he  has  grown  on  our 
community.  Newspapers  must  laud  him,  and  twelve  men 
cannot  be  called  to  convict  him  of  any  nefarious  outrage, 
especially  since  an  occasion  where  the  Supreme  Court 
seemed  to  forget  their  robes  of  office  were  more  sacred  than 
their  personal  obligations.  Yes,  the  one  desideratum  of  my 
own  return  home  and  to  practice  is  the  struggle  against 
importunities  to  help  through  this  encroaching  malpractice 
to  limit  the  family  to  that  few  whom  they  may  decorate 
and  embellish  in  the  kindergarten  and  the  like  prevailing 
fancy — the  military  parade  schools." 

Of  course  Dr.  Sawbones  followed  this  discourse  or  lec 
ture,  this  hobby,  with  some  very  nice  things  to  the  dear 
girl  left  behind.  She  evidently  forgave  him  or  did  not 
take  the  hard  work  wading  through  it  much  to  heart,  for 
she  returned  a  most  entertaining  answer.  It  may  in  part 
have  absorbed  enthusiasm  from  the  near  approach  of  her 


-" 


• 


4br***m^*ni*iiftii* 


tf  fc* 


...-.          .  .        ..      .  .. 

Hi 


128  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 


AT  HOME  ON  THE  KLONDIKE. 

IT  is  Christmas  eve  and  yet  I  am  not  "at  home"  to 
any  one.  I  am  not  mixing  a  hot  Scotch,  nor  cooling  a 
wine,  nor  doing  a  Welsh  rarebit  this  cold,  lonely  evening, 
nor  could  I  gather  the  herd  that  would  be  agreeable  to 
make  festive  with  from  the  miscellaneous  mass  of  human 
ity  here.  But  above  all  things  to  rejoice  at  I  am  in  my 
own  home,  if  all  alone  this  Christmas  eve — the  first  time 
quite  at  home  since  leaving  the  outside.  It  is  a  home  much 
of  my  own  make  and  furnished,  too,  not  from  second 
hand  stores,  but  all  the  fittings  of  my  own  make.  The 
floor  of  my  cabin  is  full  of  cracks,  the  only  weak  part  of 
it,  but  'tis  said  one  can  think  best  with  cold  feet  and  hot 
head.  But  I  must  confess  to  one  luxury  not  of  my  own 
make.  It  is  a  Brussels  carpet,  purchased  at  the  N.  A.  T. 
Company  store  at  $3  per  yard.  Building  was  conducted 
through  our  coldest  snap — 63° — and  the  stimulus  to  make 
it  good  and  warm  was  great.  Lumber  was  worth  $250 
per  thousand,  and  the  necessities  are  to  make  it  as  in 
expensive  as  possible.  My  ceilings  are  lined  with  striped 
ticking  and  the  walls  with  blue  jean.  This  is  artistic  and 
snug.  My  kitchen  is  arranged  to  make  life  easy.  A 
swivel  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  floor  allows  me  to  reach 
the  stove,  the  dinner-table,  the  cupboard  and  larder. 

With  all  this  home  are  you  content  and  happy  and  do 
you  hope  and  pray  and  dream?  Are  there  no  tears  and 
longing  and  sighing?  Very  well;  this  is  home  on  the 
Klondike,  and  we  must  not  be  pressed  to  many  confessions. 
We  are  much  "at  home"  sleeping  up  here  on  the  Klondike. 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D. 

It  is  indeed  a  relish,  only  when  the  thermometer  gets 
down  to  about  60°  one's  morning  nap  is  disturbed  by 
cracking  and  snapping  among  his  cans  and  his  water- 
pails,  and  at  that  temperature  he  often  finds  his  feet  steal 
up  his  back  and  his  knees  approach  his  chin,  while  the 
icicles  about  the  mouth  of  his  sleeping-bag  grow  so  big 
and  full  that  they  embarrass  his  breathing;  then  he  finds 
it  convenient  to  get  up  and  make  a  fire. 

Up  at  the  mines  men  are  up  and  doing  at  6  o'clock.  As 
miners  must  board  themselves,  they  occupy  much  time 
wooding,  watering,  and  cooking,  and  get  in  only  six  or 
eight  hours  daily  of  hard  work  for  their  employers.  They 
dress  immensely  warm  and  of  course  suffer  little  or  noth 
ing  from  the  cold.  The  prospectors  and  dog  inushers  on 
the  Klondike  suffer  most.  They  "at  home"  are  ensconced 
simply  in  a  tent,  and  even  at  40°  a  tent  is  cold  sleeping 
and  cooking  and  eating.  No,  not  dressing,  for  they  are 
always  dressed.  But  where  they  strike  good  wood  they 
keep  themselves  thawed  out  and  tell  us  they  like  it.  And 
I  might  make  myself  believe  them,  for  they  have  a  man 
ner  of  rolling  themselves  up  into  a  knot  like  the  Eskimo 
dog,  then  tying  themselves  in  a  fur  sleeping-bag  which 
ought  to  make  sleep  warm  and  cozy  and  let  them  out 
in  the  morning  ready  to  enjoy  frost  and  fresh  air. 

Around  town  are  loafers  and  unemployed — no  home. 
They  have  to  drive  hard  bargains  with  Jack  Frost.  This 
morning  at  4  o'clock  I  saw  one  on  a  box  outside  a  saloon 
snoring  in  deep  sleep  as  though  he  might  be  having  sweet 
dreams.  The  deserving  poor  are  a  pitiable  class  here. 
They  may  have  been  victims  of  accidents  or  may  have 
simply  come  here  broke  and  without  visible  means  of  sup 
port.  I  do  wish  they  were  all  "at  home"  outside  where 
they  came  from.  All  the  glitter  of  gold  disappears  in 
the  gloom  of  this  presence.  If  a  prayer  of  a  wicked  man 


130  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

would  avail  I  should  pray  for  them.  Some  of  this  class 
develop  into  expert,  prosperous  thieves  and  exonerate  us 
from  prayer  and  sympathy.  Yet  still  I  feel  for  them. 

"Ah,  good-morning,  Dr.  Sawbones.  Come  in.  Isn't 
this  a  palace,  sir?  There  are  no  heartaches,  but  look  at  the 
finger  aches.  You  see,  that  lining  has  a  hundred  thou 
sand  tacks.  Well,  that  cold  snap  I  hit  my  fingers  every 
other  tack;  that  makes  fifty  thousand  times.  Oh,  how 
they  ache !  But  the  worst,  Samuel.  While  I  was  building 
a  man  sold  me  a  boat,  and  I  believe  he  stole  the  boat.  Yes, 
I  winked  at  it — received  stolen  goods.  The  Lord  forgive 
me,  but  you  know  I  had  no  nails  and  could  get  none.  I 
had  upset  my  stove,  in  which  was  burned  old  scraps  of 
boards  and  boxes,  but  this  only  furnished  a  few  nails.  I 
bought  this  boat  for  the  nails,  in  fact,  but  the  sin  of  buy 
ing  stolen  goods  hangs  about  my  neck,  and  how  am  I  to 
exorcise  it?" 

Samuel  congratulated  me,  and  after  viewing  the  prem 
ises  he  remarked: 

"One  thing  is  wanting,  my  boy,  only  one  thing.  You 
are  not  quite  at  home.  I  just  witnessed  an  act  in  the  life 
of  an  old-timer,  Dick  Lowe.  His  squaw  wife  had  picked 
him  up  in  a  dancing  hall  a  little  full.  She  did  not  fall 
to  and  abuse  Dick,  but  only  said:  'You  do  not  love  me 
any  more  !'  And  her  liege  lord  remarked :  'Oh,  pshaw ! 
now.  Of  course  I  do !  These  white  girls  can't  chop  wood 
and  carry  water  and  eat  salmon  like  you  can/  Then  this 
Siwash  maid  flung  herself  around  his  neck  and  was  happy 
again.  So  long,  my  boy." 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  131 


A  MINING  TRAGEDY. 

THE  day  of  the  resurrection  will  find  the  Klondiker 
up  and  doing  at  the  first  call  of  Gabriel.  He  will  not 
need  to  wait  the  gathering  together  of  his  stray  particles 
of  dust,  for  there  is  none  such,  and  the  preacher  does  not 
say  "dust  unto  dust"  at  the  funeral  rite.  Nor  does  the 
worm  feddeth,  etc.  Man  goes  down  into  his  icy  tomb,  and 
if  perchance  a  smile  is  frozen  upon  his  lips  thus  he  will 
rise  again,  for  nothing  disturbs  him  or  his  resting-place. 
A  thousand  years  hence  and  the  eternal  frost  will  still 
have  cemented  this  clay  with  its  walls  of  muck,  which 
shall  not  open  till  the  judgment  day. 

On  the  bench  just  rising  out  of  Eldorado  Gulch  two 
bruises  are  observed  in  the  mossy  beds  covering  the  hill 
side,  each  of  the  specific  dimension  six  feet  by  two. 

Peter  Hanson  and  Nels  Carlson  were  partners  in  a 
claim  on  Eldorado.  They  had  indications  that  ere  many 
days  they  should  strike  it  rich.  Two  honest  hearts  and 
busy  heads,  they  made  haste  in  this  miner's  sunshine,  the 
frosty  winter  months,  to  make  hay.  Only  in  perspective, 
however,  had  they  stimulus  to  be  so  busy  as  they  were — 
too  busy. 

The  routine  miner's  work  brought  them  about  early, 
first  to  their  breakfast,  then  to  the  matter  of  cleaning  the 
shaft  of  the  debris  from  the  night's  burning,  and  sinking 
through  the  thawed  muck  or  gravel  preparatory  to  a  re 
newed  burning. 

One  heavy,  low  barometric  morning  our  friends  peered 
into  the  great  future  of  their  mine  and  hesitated  to  go 


132  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

down  to  work.  On  occasions  going  up  Eldorado  I  myself 
have  noticed  bad  air,  a  sort  of  fuming  air,  one  that  set 
my  lungs  to  rebelling  and  set  me  coughing,  an  atmosphere 
that  savored  of  cussedness.  Well,  this  had  not,  strictly 
speaking,  jumped  the  claim  of  Peter  Hanson  and  Nels 
Carlson,  but  it  failed  to  vacate  in  good  order,  so  they 
did  chores  and  obeyed  the  mandate  "wait"  while  this 
foul-smelling  air  slowly  moused  its  way  up  and  out.  After 
a  spell  Peter  Hanson  took  another  peep  down  the  shaft, 
but  the  lazy,  sluggish  gas  and  smoke  only  laughed  at  him 
for  his  hurry.  Good-natured  like,  Peter  said:  "Have 
your  own  way/'  Again,  after  another  spell,  he  came  back, 
and  it  is  not  strange  that  he  got  riled  at  the  nasty  tenant 
of  his  castle  and  resolved  to  oust  him,  especially  since  the 
golden  nuggets  at  the  bottom  were  haunting  him.  Peter 
went  down  the  ladder  to  do  battle  with  this  foul  enemy 
as  a  brave  heart  is  inclined  to  do.  Yes,  he  had  a  buckler 
that  would  help  him  fight  the  battle  of  right  and  might 
'way  back  at  his  old  home.  "I  will  get  behind  thee,  Satan, 
and  boost  thee  out  whether  or  no!"  And  this  oozing, 
sluggish  smoke  and  gas — the  foul,  vile,  groping  thing — 
laughed  as  poor  Peter  dropped  down  into  its  embrace, 
for  it  was  the  jaws  of  Death. 

Then  Nels  Carlson  came  from  his  little  siesta  of  setting 
the  slapjacks  and  soaking  the  beans,  and  approaching  the 
mouth  of  the  mine  said :  "Peter,  how  goes  it  ?"  Looking 
down,  the  shaft  seemed  to  him  still  full  of  the  noxious  stuff, 
and  not  quite  the  right  place  for  Peter  Hanson  to  be  rec- 
onnoitering.  "Peter !"  cried  Nels  a  little  louder,  to  make 
himself  heard  through  the  gloom.  "Peter !  Peter !  where 
are  you?"  And  great  big  drops,  not  sweat,  but  of  blood 
serum  direct  from  Nels'  heart  forced  their  way  out  through 
his  veins  as  if  to  clear,  to  wash  a  way  to  the  bottom  of  that 
shaft,  and  a  fearful  shiver  overcame  him,  "Peter !  Peter ! 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  133 

Peter!"  with  a  loud  voice.  A  hasty  glimpse  around  and 
about  revealed  no  neighbors,  no  attendants  within  reach. 
Succor  must  come  from  his  lone  strong  arm  and  brave 
soul.  I  wonder  if  Peter  Hanson  had  read  to  Nels  Carlson 
each  little  missive  from  home  and  the  manuscripts  of  his 
many  evenings  in  answer?  They  may  have  made  Nels 
the  hero  he  was.  He  looked  but  for  a  moment  in  the 
face  of  that  vile  stuff,  that  combination  of  carbonic  oxide, 
and  creosote  fumes,  and  whatever  else  that  arises  from 
the  burning  of  this  mountain  fir  in  airless  shafts  and 
settles  low  on  murky  dull  days — barely  looked,  and 
the  noble  heart  was  down  beside  poor  Peter  Hanson. 
Make  way  for  Nels  Carlson,  thou  blackened,  hellish 
thing!  Stand  aloof  there!  Nels  has  weight  to  carry. 
No,  not  miserable  dust;  he  has  better  stuff.  But 
see!  He  cannot  rise  through  thy  heavy,  damned  op 
pression!  Take  wing  and  fly  his  presence!  Why,  even 
devils  may  run  when  gods  like  Nels  are  at  their  heels. 
Oh !  oh !  oh !  Ye  will  not  ?  And  ye  gurgle  up  to  the  top 
even  poor  Nels'  last  breath,  the  only  pure  thing  left  to 
escape.  Heaven  take  poor  Nels'  soul  as  it  flies  away 
from  all  this  corruption. 

Peter  Hanson's  long,  loving  missive  to  Susanna  Benson 
had  been  finished  too  that  morning.  In  gathering  Peter's 
little  effects  we  found  many  little  things  showing  the  love 
of  Susan.  Only  her  last  letter  may  we  let  you  look  into, 
and  we  will  all  together  sympathize  with  her: 

"Peter,  come  home;  you  must  come  home.  It  is  not 
right  you  should  be  away  off  in  the  far  North,  there  fight 
ing  the  decrees  of  a  wise  Providence.  He  did  not  make 
that  wild,  cold  country  except  for  His  wild  beasts  and  for 
the  tempered  Indians.  You  work  wrong  when  you  go 
there  to  fight  this  cold  and  the  diseases  which  grow  from 
the  bad  food.  Then,  Peter,  it  is  only  gold  you  bring  me, 


134  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

and  gold  is  worthless  beside  that  love  you  tore  away  from 
me  to  search  for  it.  Will  you  not  come  Thome  and  leave 
the  worldly  gold  to  the  worldly  men  who  have  no  love  in 
their  hearts?  But,  Peter,  I  am  ill  at  ease.  I  see  bad 
signs  and  I  dream  bad  dreams.  The  birds  sing  around 
me  in  mournful  notes  and  they  do  not  smile  as  they  used 
to.  The  snowbirds  from  the  North  come,  and  they  look 
as  if  they  carry  me  a  message,  but  ere  I  ask  them  what 
they  droop  their  eyes  and  turn  back  again.  They  do  not 
greet  me  as  of  old.  In  this  harvest  season  my  little  hum 
ming-birds  come,  but  they  would  not  rob  my  flowers  of 
the  honey  nor  did  the  little  chips  come  for  their  usual 
quota  of  garden  seeds.  What  does  it  mean,  Peter?  That 
the  time  approaches  when  I  shall  be  shorn  of  all  sweets, 
all  harvests,  and  that  these  little  harbingers  of  sympathy 
are  thus  wont  to  be  good  to  me  ?  And  I  had  a  sad  dream, 
Peter.  A  great  storm  raged  and  many  miners  had  to 
battle  against  it.  I  feel  quite  sure  you  got  through, 
Peter,  but  I  should  not  like  to  see  you  battle  so  again, 
for  this  almost  worsted  you.  I  wanted  to  help  you,  but 
no.  And  I  fear  some  fierce-raging  thing  may  yet  over 
come  you.  I  sent  you  a  great  bundle  of  warm  things  k> 
fight  the  cold,  but  you  must  come  home  with  them." 

This  letter  did  not  give  Peter  warning,  but  he  grew  a 
bold  knight  instead.  He  was  not  reserving  Susan's  warm 
clothing  to  come  home  in.  We  must  take  a  look  at  his 
lately  finished  letter,  too: 

"We  are  sure,  Susanna,  to  come  home  with  great  bags 
of  that  which  is  good  above  everything  else — gold.  Nels 
and  I  have  found  it,  and  we  need  only  to  dig  it  out  and 
bring  it  home  to  you.  Then,  Susanna,  the  world  will 
smile  upon  us;  not  only  our  gold,  but  the  whole  world 
will  be  bright.  The  glitter  of  our  carriage  will  reflect 
glitter  to  the  roadside  and  even  to  the  rubty  pickets  that 


SAMUEL  8A  WBONE8,  M.  D.  135 

stand  sentinels  to  the  fields.  Our  diamonds  will  lend  a 
brilliancy  that  will  reflect  a  greater  than  their  own.  The 
charity  that  we  may  bestow  will  bring  down  upon  our 
heads  such  blessings  that  will  make  them  rest  upon  the 
pillow  of  the  saints.  Our  family  will  become  great  and 
good.  Fathers  and  mothers  back  in  the  old  fatherland 
will  nevermore  weary  except  to  prepare  themselves  for 
that  city  made  of  gold.  My  poor  dear  Susan,  you  are 
unduly  excited  over  the  bad  dreams,  and  the  omens  are 
growths  from  your  excessively  fine  imagination.  Please 
set  such  fancies  aside  and  love,  honor,  and  obey  me  until 
perhaps  next  year  I  may  float  down  the  wild  Yukon  and 
land  by  your  hearth  ere  the  winter  snow  flies.  Now,  be 
a  good  girl  and  put  foolish  things  out  of  mind  and  heart. 
Faithfully  listen  for  my  footsteps  the  next  season,  my 
most  cherished  saint,  and  I  will  abide  with  thee  forever." 
And  only  these  bundles  of  letters,  with  the  few  keep 
sakes  and  Peter's  sack  of  selected  gold  nuggets,  go  down 
the  wild  Yukon  and  out  to  Susanna. 


136  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 


ITEMS. 

IN  the  spring-time,  late  spring-time  for  you  outside 
but  early  for  us  on  the  Yukon   (about  the  first  day  of 
May),  the  populace  of  Dawson,  instead  of  lounging  about 
prominent  places  to  admire  the  first  parades  of  women 
in  gum  boots,  congregate  on  the  shore  of  the  river  and 
peer  up  and  down  wistfully,  earnestly,  to  catch  the  first 
impulse  of  the  breaking  ice.     It  is  the  great  important 
event  of  the  year — the  first  interesting,  thrilling  affair 
after  the  freeze-up  six  months  earlier.     The  ice  goes  then 
a  little  later,  and  your  humble  servant  finds  himself  in  a 
furore  of  congratulatory  antics  much  in  the  manner  of 
a  New  Year  watch-meeting.     "Mr.   Sour  Dough,   sir?" 
"Sour  Dough  we  are,  sir!"     "Shake!"    Yes,  and  why? 
Because  the  first  boat-load  of  new  people  from  outside 
is  just  in,  and  that  absolves  us  from  the  odium  and  op 
pressiveness  of  cheechoker.     Yes,  the  newcomer  is  now 
the  cheechoker,  and  we  of  the  past  year  are  Sour  Dough. 
I  will  not  say  very  much  about  the  cheechokers'  trail, 
it  being  such  an  oft-told  tale  that  it  must  sour  on  the 
sweetest  disposition  pressed  into  a  hearer,  and  I  may  add 
that  we  on  the  Klondike  have  as  much  reason  to  go  into 
spasms  over  the  mere  mention  of  the  Stikine  or  Skagway 
or  Dyea   trails,   with  the  horrors   of   Windy   Arm,   the 
treacheries  of  White  Horse,  the  Tombstones  of  the  Five 
Fingers,  the  catacombs  in  the  bottom  of  Lakes  Bennett 
and  Linderman,  as  had  any  or  all  of  you  on  the  outside 
from  the  inquisitions  of  certain  newspaper  correspondents ; 
for  we  not  only  admitted  the  loss  of  myriads  of  friends, 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  137 

but  also  feared  contamination  of  the  head  water  of  the 
Yukon.  Yes,  the  all-water  route  too  has  been  rehearsed, 
the  old  sealer  stories  reclothed,  while  horrible  whaling 
expeditions  have  been  recounted  as  new  Klondike  expe 
riences.  And  not  only  do  we  rejoice  that  we  no  longer 
are  "Cheechoctah,"  but  that  daylight  has  come  and  sun 
shine;  and,  too,  that  communication  is  established  with 
the  outside  and  we  may  have  letters  from  home  in  a  fort 
night  or  less  time ;  and  that  fresh  grub  is  come  or  coming, 
and  in  plenty;  that  a  bit  of  civilization  will  drop  in 
among  us  and  crowd  out  the  damned  villainy  harboring 
and  governing  here.  If  only  to  stamp  out  the  thefts  and 
the  lying,  we  could  worship  the  advent  of  a  new  element. 

We  will  get  door  locks  to  snub  the  thieves  and  we  will 
get  newspapers  to  outwit  the  liars.  It  is  a  common  re 
mark  in  the  philosophy  of  the  day  that  stealing  might 
be  excusable  because  of  the  gain  possible  of  some  good 
things  of  the  world,  but  that  lying  was  not  only  without 
waj^s  or  means,  but  as  low-lived  and  sinful  as  stealing. 

You  do  not  know,  my  good  friends,  what  there  is  in 
lying.  Eli  Perkins  might  go  to  the  Klondike  to  finish 
his  education,  just  as  some  of  our  doctors  go  to  Germany 
a  week  or  two  to  become  expert  or  finished  in  specialties. 
In  a  happy  experience  of  a  long,  lone  winter,  I  must 
vouch  for  great  things  that  may  be  accomplished  by  prac 
tical  application  of  heroic  lying.  In  the  first  place,  one 
must  needs  be  a  smooth,  easy  liar  in  order  to  avoid  con 
viction  in  the  matter  of  stealing — must  lie  out  of  it. 
Again,  he  must  lie  in  business  or  he  can  neither  sell  nor 
buy  a  claim.  That  I  need  not  illustrate,  for  it  holds  good 
in  Montana  as  in  the  Klondike. 

Then  the  long  winter  evening  can  only  be  made  glo 
rious  by  the  recital  and  the  receiving  of  the  wondrous  tales 
every  day  cleaned  up  from  camp  and  trail.  Early  last 


138  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

winter  no  newspaper  came  to  camp,  and  in  order  to  bor 
row  the  old  one  your  neighbor  brought  in  the  summer 
time  you  needed  to  deposit  a  half  ounce  of  dust  to  insure 
its  return.  Reliable  news,  good,  genuine — such  as  news 
papers  always  give — was  scarce,  so  we  had  to  depend  upon 
the  men's  exchange.  The  exchange  was  all  that  broad 
and  straight  way  most  lively  and  patronized,  in  the  chief 
part  of  the  city — the  saloons,  the  varieties,  the  gambling 
dens.  Thrilling  scenes,  such  as  you  never  heard  of  out 
side  even,  were  daily  transacted  on  these  bulletin  boards 
in  Dawson,  in  camp,  and  on  trail.  For  every  cache 
robbed  one  man  was  killed  outright  and  one  was  reported 
to  have  died  in  the  hospital.  The  police  (I  should  be 
reverential  and  say  the  Northwest  Mounted  Police)  were 
overworked  and  the  vigilantes  had  to  lend  aid.  Windy 
Dick's  famous  dog  team  of  huskies  went  up  to  the  French 
Gulch  to  bring  down  a  big  nugget  just  discovered — too 
big  for  two  men  to  carry.  Joe  Dalton,  who  went  out  on 
first  ice  with  $40,000  in  dust,  was  waylaid  by  highway 
men  and  all  his  gang  was  murdered  save  one,  who  came 
back  to  tell  the  tale.  One  thousand  reindeer  were  on 
the  summit  bringing  luxuries  for  us  starving  miners  lux 
uriating  in  Dawson.  Hurrah! 

Finally  war  news  began  to  come,  and  just  as  the  war 
collapsed  we  were  having  Yankee  sentinels  posted  upon 
almost  every  fortification  in  the  civilized  world,  or  some 
New  York  gentleman's  private  yacht  just  outside  keep 
ing  the  harbor  bottled  up  with  a  nation's  great  fleet  in 
side.  Time  and  again  we  were  on  the  point  of  giving 
notice  to  that  glorious  military  organization,  the  N.  W. 
M.  P.  (which  means  the  Northwest  Mounted  Police)  to 
go  home,  but  they  were  such  fat,  easy  fellows  one  did 
not  like  to  turn  them  out  in  the  cold.  They  never  would 
have  stood  the  trip  out  on  the  trail.  Besides,  they  ac- 


SAMUEL  SA  WBONES,  M.  D.  139 

tually  once  did  capture  a  man,  or  rather  take  out  of  the 
hands  of  a  mob  one  who  had  robbed  a  poor  miner's  cache 
and  jailed  him,  and  we  were  grateful — we  Eldorado  kings 
in  prospective !  But  I  hope  in  my  old  age  to  write  a 
book  on  "A  Winter  Evening's  Tales,"  and  those  of  you 
who  are  still  alive  will  read  about  what  I  cannot  tell  you 
to-night.  Only  listen  to  me :  there  must  some  good  things 
come  out  of  lying  on  the  Klondike  or  else  people  would 
tire  of  it,  and  I  cannot  see  any  abatement  since  the  first 
days  in  which  I  was  an  active  member. 

If  you  choose  to  look  at  these — stealing  and  lying — 
as  the  comic  opera  of  our  winter's  amusement,  you  must 
allow  for  the  real  genuine  music,  the  real  opera — our  eat 
ing!  No  matter  that  we  had  no  clam  De  Santiago  soup 
or  canary  del  Filipinos  on  toast,  yet  we  had  relishes  that 
would  make  yellow-fever  germs  desert  one's  stomach  from 
sheer  overcrowding.  First  and  foremost,  bacon  and  beans. 
Why  bacon  and  beans?  Not  because  they  are  chief  ar 
ticles  of  commerce,  but  because  they  pan  out  more  bone, 
sinew,  and  caloric  to  the  pound  than  anything  else,  be 
cause  you  like  them,  because  they  are  convenient.  You 
may  know  a  man  in  Alaska  who  does  not  eat  bacon  and 
beans.  You  may  also  know  a  man  on  the  Klondike  who 
all  last  winter  wore  a  duster  and  a  straw  hat.  I  did. 
The  custom  of  my  pard  and  myself  was  to  put  beans  and 
pig's  jowl  into  our  largest  cooking  pot  and  give  it  first 
place  on  the  range  permanently.  One  meal  daily  from 
this  was  the  written  law ;  two  meals  was  common  where  a 
special  blessing  would  not  befall  us  in  the  shape  of  some 
new  dish — a  fresh  fish,  a  piece  of  caribou  or  salmon. 

Ah,  milord,  Bacon.,  you  re  King  on  the  Yukon. 

To  thee  and  thy  kindred,  all  hail! 
Yes,  my  dear  bacon,  best  thing  on  the  Yukon, 

You're  first  choice  in  cabin  or  trail. 


140  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

Dried  fish  for  the  native,  fish  too  for  his  dog, 

But  none  of  the  sad  truck  for  me, 
Unless  tliou  dear  morsel,  thou  choice  of  the  hogf 

fTis  fried  in,  'Us  flavored  in  thee. 

The  saddle  and  tongue  of  the  gay  old  lull  moose 

•Is  relish  for  Russian — not  me; 
Nor  the  fricassee  game,  the  migrant  wild  goose, 

Unless  fried  and  flavored  in  thee. 

Ah,  my  Lord  Bacon,  thou  chief  of  the  Yukon, 

Before  thee  low  lone  and  mush; 
The  light  of  the  window  goes  out  on  the  Yukon 

Lest,  Lord  Bacon,  you  keep  her  flush. 

Old-timers  and  Sour  Doughs  had  "sour  dough"  bread, 
but  we  cheechokers  satisfied  ourselves  through  probation 
with  baking-powder  biscuit.  These  were  good,  bad,  and 
indifferent.  We  were  likewise  indifferent,  because  every 
morsel  of  these  crowded  the  one  ahead  of  it  down  with 
such  velocity  as  to  make  taste  a  myth.  Butter-  -I  thank 
the  Lord  the  two  old  commercial  companies  kept  good 
butter  and  never  let  it  run  above  $2.50  per  pound.  Sugar 
was  good,  and  at  store  prices  cost  30  cents.  At  starva 
tion  point,  when  outfits  were  thrown  upon  the  market  by 
retreating  cheechokers,  the  price  of  sugar  was,  with  the 
whole  pack-meat,  rice,  flour,  salt,  fruit,  cornraeal,  every 
thing — $1  per  pound.  Oatmeal  and  rice  go  without  say 
ing;  everybody  had  it;  everybody  had  condensed  milk, 
though  this  spring  some  paid  $3  per  can  for  it;  and  I 
think  everybody  had  dried  fruit.  Some  had  ham,  some 
canned  meats,  canned  fruits;  some  luxurious  fellows  had 
sweet  potatoes,  peas,  tomatoes,  salmon,  fresh  mackerel, 
with  tomato  sauce,  Vienna  sausage.  And  why  did  we 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D. 

starve?  Why,  we  did  not.  You  must  recall  what  I  told 
you — lying  was  a  fine  art  on  the  Klondike,  and  those  peo 
ple  who  went  out  had  it  pat.  The  fellow  who  was  home 
sick,  or  left  a  girl  behind,  or  was  weakened  and  disap 
pointed  because  the  Sour  Doughs  had  picked  up  all  the 
nuggets  from  the  streets  of  Dawson,  must  have  an  excuse 
for  coming  out,  and  starvation  is  such  a  thrilling,  grow 
ing  horror,  such  a  sympathetic  one,  that  they  could  not  do 
as  well  for  themselves  with  any  other  subject. 

However,  if  many  had  not  gone  and  if  the  government 
had  not  invited  many  down  the  river  to  storage  points, 
some  of  us  may  have  had  to  eat  our  mucklucks.  Aside 
from  this,  many  people  infected  with  the  fright  bought, 
stole,  or  begged  lots  of  grub  to  add  to  an  already  filled 
cache,  and  met  spring  with  more  than  their  share.  I  re 
peat,  all  hands  who  could  pay  for  food  found  plenty  at 
their  command.  All  winter  we  could  buy  fresh  beef  and 
mutton,  shipped  down  the  river  early  in  the  fall,  and  the 
Indians  kept  a  pretty  good  supply  of  moose  coming  in  all 
the  time  at  only  $1  per  pound.  Of  course  there  is  noth 
ing  in  all  this  bill  of  grub  to  make  you  outside  sing  a 
Christmas  carol,  but  mind,  you  were  not  on  the  Yukon  or 
you  would  have  chanted  a  Te  Deum  with  us.  I  can  recall 
when  the  Methodist  parson  would  say:  "You  must  pray 
without  ceasing  or  else  be  damned."  On  the  Klondike  we 
must  eat  without  ceasing  or  else  be  starved.  The  luxury 
of  eating — anything,  everything — makes  life  worth  living 
here,  even  though  no  nuggets  fill  up  our  empty  cans.  And 
you  can  guess  that  no  ingenuity  was  spared  in  preparing 
the  feasts.  In  camp,  in  the  diggings,  I  heard  miners 
dispute  precedence  as  cook.  Without  New  Orleans  mo 
lasses  they  would  make  grand  old  gingerbread;  without 
eggs  they  cooked  magnificent  puddings ;  without  sour  milk 
or  cream  will  they  bake  wondrous  waffles.  I  am  in  the 


142  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

habit  of  telling  of  my  neighbor  who  from  one  bucket  of 
sour  dough  laid  the  foundation  for  five  good  dishes  of 
which  I  partook  one  meal.  In  faith,  though,  I  must  con 
fess,  the  luxury  in  eating  is  due  to  the  smart,  bright,  cold 
weather  and  the  good  climate.  Fortunately  it  favors 
one's  digestion  with  his  appetite,  and  I  can  commend  to 
you  miserable  dyspeptics,  of  whom  I  can  mark  scores  and 
scores,  a  winter  on  the  Yukon.  I  wish  to  say  this:  The 
old-time  residents  of  the  Yukon,  most  of  whom  have 
drawn  to  Dawson  and  these  diggings,  had  any  and  all 
things  in  store  that  transportation  can  manage,  and  I  ate 
a  Christmas  dinner  that  would  do  justice  to  the  outside 
with  one  of  these  families. 

Possibly  as  I  go  along  I  had  better  make  work  a  sub 
ject  in  the  discussion,  for  if  one  is  not  ready  and  willing 
to  work  he  had  better  at  once  steal  something  and  give 
himself  up  to  the  N".  W.  M.  P.,  who  will  send  him  down 
the  Yukon  to  American  territory;  then  if  the  winter  is 
severe  the  government  may  provide  for  him.  In  the  city 
of  Dawson  my  pard  utilized  the  forenoons,  while  I  kept 
house,  to  sled  the  wood;  this  he  found  on  the  hillside 
within  a  mile.  I  gave  him  the  house  to  keep  in  the  after 
noon  and  I  sawed  the  wood.  If  this  was  not  a  daily  job  it 
was  not  less  than  alternate  days'  work.  Housekeeping 
aside  from  cooking  was  not  very  tedious.  Sweeping  might 
have  been  commended,  but  brooms  are  worth  a  half  ounce 
of  dust.  Finally,  when  I  became  owner  of  a  piece  of  a 
broom  I  had  to  lend  it  to  so  many  neighbors  that  I  needed 
to  economize  in  my  own  use  to  save  it.  Water  in  winter 
time  must  all  be  carried  from  the  Yukon  Eiver,  no  matter 
how  far  away  one  lives.  And  the  holes  cut  in  the  ice 
become  veritable  Eebecca  wells,  only  we  never  see  any 
Eebecca  drawing  water.  A  common  water  supply  is  draw 
ing  sled-loads  of  ice  home  and  drinking  ice.  In  summer- 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  143 

time,  with  the  advent  of  sunshine  and — well,  say  mos 
quitoes  for  butterflies — there  come  springs  from  the  hill 
side  at  one  end  of  town,  which  we  call  the  resident  end 
because  people  flock  there  for  convenience.  Our  water  is 
good,  especially  in  comparison  with  our  beer. 

As  for  wages,  it  was  a  matter  of  capacity.  A  good 
man  dealing  faro  got  $20  per  day.  1  know  a  girl  who 
did  housekeeping  for  $100  per  month,  yet  I  know  an 
other  tell  a  man  to  "Git  away  wid  your  $50  a  week — 
washing's  good  enough  for  me  at  $15  a  day." 
Miners  got  from  $1.25  to  $1.50  per  hour,  but  it  is  seldom 
he  gets  in  more  than  eight  hours  a  day  in  winter-time 
and  he  must  find  his  own  grub  stake.  It  is  expected  of 
every  man  not  a  fool  to  land  in  Dawson  with  his  year's 
grub,  but  of  course  officials  should  have  posted  such  no 
tice  outside;  then  some  of  us  would  not  have  made  the 
mistake  of  getting  there  hungry.  But  the  wise  ones,  as 
a  rule,  rushed  off  to  the  diggings  and  took  lays  or  leases 
in  mines  already  owned,  or  else  staked  claims  and  fell 
immediately  to  work.  One  would  find  a  trolley-car  pilot 
run  up  his  windlass  crank  with  the  same  dexterity  of  his 
old  trade;  or  an  electrician  adjusting  the  light  of  his 
widow  in  much  humor  and  patience;  and  a  doctor  might 
be  prowling  around  the  camps  supplying  wood  as  though 
some  distant  day  he  might  hope  for  reward.  Lawyers? 
Oh,  no.  Lawyers  are  brokers  and  dealers  in  real  estate 
and  mining  and  in  miners  themselves,  and  they  stay  in 
town  watching  opportunities.  Once  on  a  time,  when  days 
were  getting  long,  when  dangers  on  the  trail  were  lessen 
ing,  might  have  been  seen  moving  up  the  Klondike  and 
over  Bonanza  a  conspicuous  figure.  He  had  on  a  Yukon 
cap  with  its  mighty  ear-tufts  bristling  and  brushing 
through  the  frost;  a  gorgeous  mottled  parkee  of  fabulous 
price — the  finest  fur — shrouded  about  firm  shoulders  and 


144  TEE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

stanch  limbs;  gaudy  colored  and  elegant  gartered  Ger 
man  stockings  about  his  calves,  with  brilliant  beaded  moc 
casins  on  well-squared  feet.  Siwash  George,  is  it,  who 
discovered  Bonanza?  Oh,  no;  greater  than  he.  Big 
Alex,  who  owns — well,  no;  he  goes  like  the  rest  of  us. 
Swift  Water  Bill?  Skookum  Jim?  No,  none  of  these 

Eldorado  kings.     What !  that's  your  old  pard  from , 

some  one  says!  I  don't  think  it.  I  never  saw  him  out 
of  town  before  if  it  is  he.  • 

MINING   ON   THE   KLONDIKE. 

The  modes  of  mining  amount  to  about  this:  You  first 
get  your  mine  or  else  a  lay  on  some  one  else's  mine.  You 
dig  the  moss  off  and,  if  possible,  pick  and  shovel  the  area 
of  a  shaft  to  some  depth.  One  can  pick  through  the  strata 
known  as  muck;  it  resembles  hard  blue  clay.  It  may  be 
two  or  ten  feet  thick.  Below  is  gravel,  much  like  gravel 
expected  or  found  in  placer  diggings  in  Montana.  It 
may  be  two  or  twenty  feet  deep.  Gravel  lies  on  bed  rock. 
One's  shaft  may  have  to  be  from  five  to  thirty  feet  deep. 
Gravel  seems  to  be  quite  inoperative  with  pick,  unless 
burned.  So  miners  fill  great  armfuls  of  wood  in  this 
shaft,  which  when  burned  out  has  thawed  four  or  six 
inches  of  the  gravel  in  the  bottom;  when  the  smoke  has 
cleared  out  the  pick,  shovel,  and  windlass  do  the  rest. 
Two  men  at  work  run  two  shafts,  so  as  to  be  busy  at  one 
while  the  other  burns.  If  you  strike  no  pay  dirt  before 
reaching  bed  rock  you  try  a  new  place.  The  gravel  may 
pay  three  feet  above  bed  rock  or  only  a  fraction  of  a  foot. 
Its  pay  decreases  from  bed  rock  up  in  richness;  the  pay 
streak  may  be  a  foot  or  fifty  feet  in  width;  it  may  be 
straight,  regular,  or  pockety.  It  is  not  wise  to  count  upon 
a  million  in  one's  mine  until  it  is  out  on  the  dump.  I 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  145 

know  people  on  the  Klondike  who  want  a  million  and  did 
not  get  it.  They  had  hopes  they  might  get  it,  but  still 
did  not.  They  had  in  sight  big  pay,  which  when  washed 
still  would  not  come  up  to  a  million ;  of  course  next  time 
it  might  do  better.  Well,  I  almost  forgot  to  finish  the 
mining  before  the  washing.  If  one  strikes  pay  at  the  end 
of  his  shaft  he  still  burns,  picks,  and  shovels ;  he  drifts  in 
the  manner  of  mining  everywhere  else.  All  he  dumps 
outside  on  the  ground,  and  some  of  these  dumps  rise  up  to 
be  as  big  as  log  cabins.  Almost  the  middle  of  May  the 
summer  sun  smiles  upon  us  with  heat  and  fervor,  and 
these  dumps  melt.  The  miner,  with  his  whole  winter's 
hope  deferred  to  this  date,  calls  his  trusty  slaves  to  him 
and  they  begin  sluicing — much  like  the  Chinamen  do  in 
Montana.  They  build  a  long  box,  twenty  or  one  hun 
dred  feet;  they  shovel  this  dump  into  it  from  day  to  day 
as  the  ground  thaws;  they  run  a  good  stream  of  water 
through  it  and  wash  the  gold  clean.  Here  is  where  great 
miners  are  brought  down  to  common  groveling — I  mean 
Eldorado  kings  and  big  chiefs  and  Skookum  dukes  are 
brought  down  to  hard  work  and  ingenious  ways.  "No, 
thank  you,  gentlemen.  I  will  let  you  hold  my  sweater. 
I  will  pick  up  these  nuggets.  Please  pass  me  the  sacks/' 
And  then  that  12  per  cent,  royalty — $12,000  on  every 
$100,000-— how  will  he  manage  that?  Indeed,  I  do  not 
know,  but  I  will  leave  it  to  him  for  that.  I  think  he  has 
it  studied  out.  From  one  to  two  months  are  consumed 
for  cleaning  up,  washing  the  dumps;  after  that  several 
months  are  occupied  in  various  ways,  getting  wood,  pros 
pecting  for  new  claims,  recreation. 

INDUSTRIES. 

The  industries  and  home  talent  of  Dawson  and  the 
Klondike  are  various.     Mining  first,  of  course ;  and  as  the 


146  TEE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

miner  of  the  period  could  not  exist  without  his  gambling, 
the  gambling  halls,  or  parlors,  if  you  choose,  rank  next 
in  importance  and  prosperity.  I  need  not  stop  to  talk 
about  them,  as  you  know  how  it  is  yourself.  A  dealer  in 
one  of  these  places  reported  a  daily  average  clean-up  at 
the  tables  and  bar  of  from  $1,500  to  $2,000. 

Your  outside  papers  were  during  the  winter  making 
famous  one  Swift  Water  Bill.  Bill  stayed  out  too  long 
in  the  hands  of  his  friends;  when  he  came  back  his  sack 
was  empty  and  he  was  thence  only  "Still  Water  Willie." 

But  men  and  women  make  money  in  more  ways  than 
one.  The  two  old  trading  companies  deal  in  every  con 
ceivable  kind  of  material  from  gaudy  Indian  calicoes  to 
mouse-traps.  Six  or  a  dozen  horses  were  at  Dawson  all 
winter  with  hay  at  $400  per  ton  and  meal  at  20  cents  to 
$1  per  pound.  Ten  dollars  per  hour  for  a  team  was  the 
penalty,  and  they  were  busy.  Dogs  are  legal  tender. 
They  carried  grub  and  lumber  up  the  gulches  the  whole 
winter  season,  going  where  horses  could  not  and  working 
better  and  cheaper.  Without  dogs  the  camp  would  have 
been  helpless.  Dogs  would  make  a  lecture  of  its  own. 
No  one  likes  dogs  as  a  subject,  but  they  must  be  endured — 
just  as  the  cook  or  stepmother.  They  howl  in  four  or 
five  different  languages  at  once;  they  exercise  the  cussed- 
ness  of  the  several  different  species — wolf,  coyote,  real 
dog,  from  which  they  have  their  being.  You  learn  to 
endure  their  cry,  their  mourning,  their  howl  all  in  one; 
but  when  you  must  take  forty  steps  around  about  the  dogs 
lying  in  the  streets  to  gain  just  twenty  steps,  then  you 
wish  there  were  no  dogs,  and  when  you  must  guard  even 
hot  things  on  your  stove  lest  the  dogs  steal  them,  then 
you  pray  for  the  era  of  reindeer.  The  good  things  com 
ing  out  of  dogs,  however,  seem  to  outweigh  all  this,  and 
we  must  continue  to  say  our  prayers  for  the  good  health 


SAMUEL  SA  WBONES,  M.  D.  147 

of  the  dogs,  just  as  we  do  for  the  good  health  and  long 
life  of  the  Queen  and  her  numerous  family. 

Mechanics  of  all  classes  found  something  to  do  or  made 
work  for  themselves.  One  made  a  rustic  chair — only  $12 ; 
another  a  rustic  broom  from  a  willow  brush.  Cabins  grew 
all  winter.  A  simple  little  planing  mill  kept  at  work  all 
winter,  and  this  summer  three  sawmills  were  scattered 
through  the  town.  Lumber  had  been  selling  up  to  late 
summer  for  $200  per  thousand;  a  downward  tendency, 
however,  when  I  left.  The  coldest  day  of  the  season 
came  in  the  midst  of  my  house-building,  yet  the  interest 
and  energy  of  the  enterprise  made  it  possible  to  continue. 
I  think  I  have  said  enough  about  work,  for  when  you  go 
there  you  will  be  taking  my  advice  and  rush  right  off  into 
the  mining  world. 

PASTIME. 

Pastime?  Why,  of  course  it  was  not  all  work.  If  not 
mining  or  employment  at  some  service,  we  wasted  as 
much  time  as  possible  sleeping  and  eating.  Then  we 
would  write  letters  home,  even  though  we  knew  not  if  a 
home  was  left  us.  Writing  was  by  no  means  made  glori 
ous  last  winter,  by  the  absence  of  oil  lamps.  Oil  was  im 
possible  to  the  cheechokers  and  only  possible  to  the  sa 
loons  and  music  halls  at  a  rate  of  $40  per  gallon.  Tallow 
candles  were  $75  per  box,  and  most  of  us  had  to  resort  to 
what  in  kindly  terms  we  called  the  widow — a  tin  can 
with  bacon  grease  and  cotton  wick.  Sometimes  this 
widow  would  assert  itself  and  partake  of  all  the  freaks  and 
frailties  of  her  species.  She  would  let  her  light  so  shine 
as  to  please  her  most  worthless  or  cruel  master,  and  again 
would  go  into  lone  darkness  from  the  midst  of  most 
charming  and  entertaining  associates.  Ah,  yes,  she  was 
the  glory  of  the  long  winter  nights  and  likewise  the  com- 


148  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

miseration  of  her  most  devoted  attendants.  But  we  had 
another  name  for  her  when  too  bad.  Worn  to  the  last 
thread  of  patience,  I  invested  $25  in  a  box  of  candles,  they 
having  dropped  to  this  respectable  price  upon  the  ap 
proach  of  long  days.  We  had  no  football,  no  afternoon 
teas,  no  elections;  but  we  had  prize-fights,  church  fes 
tivals,  and  auction  sales. 

And  then  do  no  funny  things  happen  on  the  Klondike — 
you  have  no  real  fun,  no  real  good  times?  Oh,  yes.  We 
go  out  fishing  on  Sunday,  and  in  season  we  can  raise  a 
party  to  go  out  after  cranberries  and  raspberries.  Yes, 
I  recall  a  warning  a  mother  was  giving  to  her  children: 
"Now,  don't  you  go  up  on  that  mountain  to-day.  They 
haven't  gathered  near  all  that  man  up  yet  that  had  the 
fight  with  the  bear."  That  was  in  our  neighbor  town — 
Lousetown.  Wild  cranberries,  raspberries  and  huckle 
berries  are  rather  plenty.  There  are  seldom  any  good,  in 
teresting  fights,  because  every  saloon  has  one  or  more 
good,  healthy  mounted  police,  and  if  they  did  not  pick 
up  a  disorderly  they  never  would  have  the  honor  of  doing 
anything.  Then,  of  course,  going  to  the  post-office  is 
fun.  Our  first  government  mail  came  in  about  March  1. 
Some  people  were  becoming  anxious  by  that  time  to  hear 
from  wife  or  kids  or  sweethearts.  Haunting  the  post- 
office  for  these  we  found  a  notice  posted:  "The  mail 
will  be  ready  for  distribution  in  five  days."  Then  we 
waited  at  home  five  days.  There  was  about  as  much  mail 
as  comes  into  a  town  of  15,000  inhabitants  every  day.  At 
the  appointed  time  we  were  all  there.  The  line  wound 
around  the  barracks,  up  Second  Street,  down  First  Ave 
nue,  and  became  lost  somewhere.  All  the  miners  in  the 
district  heard  a  mail  had  come  in  and  were  there.  Of 
course  summer  had  not  come  yet,  and  this  getting  the 
mail  was  the  matter  of  the  survival  of  the  fittest.  After 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  149 

three  days  I  found  myself  in  the  presence  of  a  post-office 
clerk;  there  were  about  four  of  them,  all  fine,  healthy, 
husky  fellows,  mounted  police.  A  letter  for  Mr.  Sour 
Dough,  sir?  He  took  down  a  bundle  of  letters  beginning 
Do,  unwound  a  long  twine  tied  around  both  sides,  and 

began  his  search.  "Doolittle,  Doty,  Donahue " 

"There,  there;  that  was  Dough,  sir."  He  looked  back, 
and  sure  enough  a  letter  for  Sour  Dough.  I  called  him 
back  thus  several  times  and  got  two  letters.  Then  he 
slowly  and  firmly  bound  up  the  package,  tied  twice  around 
with  a  bow-knot,  placed  it  in  the  box  Do,  arid  waited  on 
the  next.  Oh,  I  tell  you  there  is  fun  going  to  the  Dawson 
post-office. 

Then  young  folks  have  their  amusements,  too.  In  the 
early  day  we  had  the  pleasure  of  going  to  church.  One 
sad  night  we  had  a  fire.  Brother  Young,  the  Presby 
terian  missionary,  had  a  nice  church,  and  he  devoted  the 
upstairs  to  his  swell  members  for  lodgings.  One  night, 
between  them  or  because  of  them  or  some  unaccountable 
reason,  an  upturned  stove  would  not  get  back  on  its  feet, 
and  the  devout  tenants  tumbled  downstairs,  only  to  leave 
Brother  Young  churchless.  Shortly  afterward  the  Cath 
olic  church,  a  nice  little  monument  of  our  old  friend  Pat 
Galvin,  startled  us  by  burning.  We  never  knew  why 
churches  cannot  stand  that  atmosphere.  The  Methodists 
are  trying  it  this  year,  and  we  await  with  interest  the  re 
sult.  The  Salvationists  are  likewise  there  building  bar 
racks.  I  will  bet  on  both  of  these  in  a  fair  wrestle  with 
the  Klondikers. 

There  is  only  one  bicycle  in  camp,  but  we  have  lots  of 
dog  sleds.  Just  like  at  home,  you  go  swell  or  you  go 
every-day  style.  The  young  man  who  takes  his  best  girl 
out  in  his  every-day  sled  runs  at  the  gee-pole,  just  behind 
the  dogs.  He  must  look  back  to  see  her,  but  has  no  chance 


150  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

to  talk.  The  swell  sleigh  has  the  gee-pole  behind  and  the 
lover  must  run  after.  He  can  talk  in  his  girl's  ear,  but 
he  cannot  see  her,  except  the  crown  of  her  big  Yukon  hood. 
On  the  Bonanza  trail  just  a  few  miles  out  of  town  one  of 
these  swell  equipages  with  seven  dogs,  all  huskies,  was 
galloping  along,  while  down  the  grade  came  a  freight 
team,  an  equally  good  outfit  of  about  seven  Malamuth 
dogs.  Dick  Seldom,  the  driver,  peered  into  the  hood  com 
ing  toward  him  instead  of  mushing  on  his  dogs;  and  the 
youth,  talking  nice  things  through  her  bonnet — a  massive 
bundle  of  furs — forgot  to  mush  his  dogs.  The  two  teams 
came  opposite.  Dick  still  peered  into  the  forbidden  hood 
facing  him,  and  the  other  fellow  stared  fiercely  at  Dick 
for  his  impudence.  The  dogs  stopped.  Two  saucy  ones 
growled ;  then  all  was  lost.  In  a  moment  these  two  teams 
— dogs,  harness,  and  sleds — were  balled  up  into  a  great 
mass,  with  two  maniacs  pounding  the  breath  out  of  them 
selves  to  get  at  head  or  tail.  Finally  they  were  unraveled 
and  our  sweetheart  came  out  as  good  as  new.  Her  parkee 
of  caribou  skins  and  her  thick  fur  hood  have  suffered  with 
the  fur  of  the  huskies  and  the  Malamuths,  but  they  saved 
her  precious  self.  Loads  of  fun  that,  she  said  afterward. 

THE  MINING  DISTRICT. 

The  Klondike  mining  district  is  a  sub-division  of  the 
Yukon  mining  district.  Lately  all  that  country  is  formed 
into  a  new  political  district  called  the  Yukon  Territory. 
The  present  letter  address  to  the  Klondikers  is  Dawson, 
Yukon  Territory.  The  Klondike  and  the  Indian  rivers 
have  their  head?  In  the  Rocky  Mountains,  as  nearly  as 
can  be  guessed  (for  no  surveys  are  made)  one  hundred 
miles  from  their  mouths  in  the  Yukon  and  in  a  south 
easterly  direction.  They  may  be  forty  miles  apart,  nearly 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  151 

parallel  from  source  to  mouth.  The  present  mining  dis 
trict,  called  the  Klondike  in  general,  is  located  and  pros 
pected  for  about  sixty  miles  up  from  the  Yukon,  and  is 
almost  confined  within  the  boundaries  of  these  two  rivers, 
neither  of  which  has  more  than  indifferent  bar  diggings. 
Flowing  into  the  Klondike  are  the  Bonanza,  Eldorado, 
Hunker,  All  Gold,  Too  Much  Gold,  Bear  Creek,  and  in 
numerable  branches.  Flowing  in  a  directly  opposite  di 
rection  into  the  Indian  River  are  the  Dominion,  Sulphur, 
Quartz,  Ophir,  Nine  Mile,  Eureka,  some  others,  and 
branches.  In  addition  are  a  number  of  small  creeks,  and 
into  all  are  numerous  streams  of  only  a  few  miles  called 
pups.  Three  miles  from  its  mouth  the  Bonanza,  heading 
thirty  or  forty  miles  nearly  south,  empties  into  the  Klon 
dike;  fourteen  miles  from  this  mouth  Eldorado,  with  its 
source  ten  miles  south,  joins  the  Bonanza. 

The  first  big  finds  to  excite  the  stampede  to  the  Klon 
dike  district  were  on  Bonanza  Creek.  The  pot-rattlers 
of  the  stampede,  the  lazy  man,  the  sluggard  coming  in 
after  Bonanza  was  all  swallowed  up,  feared  the  odium  of 
being  claimless  and  staked  on  this  side  issue,  Eldorado. 
They  should  have  called  it  Last  Chance.  Eldorado  fig 
ured  for  some  time  as  a  wild  cat.  One  original  claimer 
danced  a  jig  through  the  whole  night  upon  receiving  $100 
for  his  claim,  and  one,  in  combination  with  some  friendly 
wretch,  put  up  a  confidence  game  on  a  Swede  named  An 
derson.  Anderson  had  $400.  They  therefore  made  An 
derson  drunk  as  a  stepping-stone  to  his  fortune.  I  do 
not  know  if  Anderson  was  fond  of  drink ;  I  only  know  that 
they  made  him  drunk.  When  drunk  the  owner  of  this 
claim  made  him  a  deed,  signed  it  for  him  and  themselves, 
took  his  $400  as  payment,  and  abandoned  claim  and  An 
derson.  Anderson  waked  from  his  delirium  into  his  new 
delusion.  He  cried  for  his  money,  but  the  confidence 


153  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

men  made  their  bond  as  strong  as  the  law  of  the  Medes 
and  Persians.  Poor  Anderson  sought  the  solitude  of  his 
claim  'way  up  on  Eldorado,  that  he  could  weep  unmo 
lested.  The  sum  and  substance  of  this  confidence  game 
is  that  Anderson's  claim  will  have  panned  him  out  at 
least  a  million  dollars,  and  he  doesn't  cry  about  it  a  bit 
any  more.  Discovery  Claim,  on  Bonanza,  is  about  thir 
teen  miles  from  its  mouth,  about  one  mile  from  the  mouth 
of  Eldorado.  It  originally  belonged  to  Mr.  George  Cor- 
mack  and,  strange  to  say,  still  belongs  to  him.  And  he 
discovered  it?  No,  he  did  not.  His  wife  discovered  it, 
but  he  appropriated  all  the  honor  and  glory  and  perqui 
sites  of  a  big  event,  which  is  here  a  long  continuous  round 
of  hootch  and  other  beverages.  Cormack's  wife  is  a 
squaw,  and  how  she  discovered  gold  on  the  Bonanza  is 
more  than  I  could  discover.  The  story  is  something  to 
the  effect  that  she  was  wading  through  Bonanza  as  a  plaus 
ible  way  of  washing  her  feet  and  that  she  came  out  with 
nuggets  sticking  between  her  toes.  It  could  be  possible 
for  nuggets  to  stick  between  one's  toes,  but  could  not  be 
probable  that  a  squaw  would  wash  her  feet;  therefore  I 
abandon  such  ideas  and  drop  the  search. 

For  about  twelve  claims  below  Discovery,  on  Bonanza, 
about  all  are  good  pay  claims,  worth  from  $100,000  to 
$500,000  each.  From  No.  12  to  No.  100  below  there  are 
only  a  few  good-paying  claims,  while  only  a  limited  share 
are  actually  paying.  Some  of  Bonanza's  biggest  pay 
claims  are  above  Discovery.  I  am  not  exaggerating  to 
say  several  will  pan  out  $1,000,000,  quite  a  number  will 
pan  out  as  much  as  $100,000,  and  the  greater  share  will 
pay  above  wages  up  as  far  as  No.  45 ;  above  No.  45  is  little 
or  nothing. 

Eldorado  has  a  continuous  pay  streak  from  its  mouth, 
which  is  Discovery  Claim,  up  to  No.  30 — only  a  few  ex- 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  153 

ceptional  claims.  I  scarcely  dare  compute  their  total 
value,  but  may  average  them  at  $50,000  to  $200,000  yearly 
output  for  three  to  five  years.  From  No.  30  to  No.  40 
are  a  few  big  claims,  but  likewise  a  number  of  blanks; 
above  No.  40  few,  if  any,  claims  pay  above  expenses  at 
present  way  of  work. 

This  summer  it  is  being  demonstrated  that  Eldorado 
and  Bonanza  each  have  innumerable  paying  claims  on  the 
benches,  and  by  the  present  time  every  foot  of  ground 
from  rim  rock  to  top  range  is  staked  as  bench  claims.  Of 
course  that  does  not  mean  that  every  one  of  these  claims 
are  paying  investments,  but  I  know  it  from  observation 
that  a  big  number  are  paying  from  wages  to  big  pay.  I 
know,  too,  that  after  a  free  and  complete  prospect  of  all 
these  claims  are  made  the  world  will  open  its  eyes  at  the 
output. 

Eldorado  Gulch  and  Bonanza  have  streams  emptying 
into  them,  usually  called  pups,  but  the  history  of  these 
pups  is  that  they  do  not  pay,  unless  perchance  two  to  four 
claims  counting  from  the  mouth.  One  tributary  of  El 
dorado,  French  Gulch,  paid  little  or  nothing  in  what  we 
term  creek  claims,  but  some  fabulous  bench  claims  were 
discovered  on  it  this  summer.  It  was  quite  possible  to 
wash  out  $1,000  a  day  with  a  rocker. 

Emptying  into  the  Klondike  nine  miles  above  the  mouth 
of  Bonanza  is  Hunker  Creek,  coming  thirty  miles  from 
the  southeast.  It  is  so  large  that  no  effort  is  made  to 
mine  on  it  for  ten  miles  from  its  mouth.  From  that  (No. 
75)  up  to  Discovery  a  number  of  claims  were  worked 
which  panned  out  big  and  which  stand  in  the  market  at 
from  $50,000  to  $100,000,  but  as  yet  the  majority  of 
Hunker  claims  have  not  paid  well;  one  cannot  say  if 
from  want  of  prospecting  or  from  barrenness. 

I  may  have  failed  to  explain  what  I  mean  by  prospect- 


154  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

ing.  In  the  first  place,  we  say  prospecting  when  we  hunt 
the  country  over  to  discover  claims;  secondly,  we  say 
prospecting  when  we  have  a  claim  and  work  it  to  open  up 
and  discover  if  any  pay  is  in  it  and  where  and  how  much. 
Owners  of  twenty  claims  above  Discovery  on  Hunker 
claim  they  have  good  pay;  some  claim  big  pay.  I  cannot 
vouch  for  it.  All  Gold,  a  creek  ten  to  twenty  miles  long, 
is  a  tributary  of  Klondike,  emptying  into  it  some  miles 
above  Hunker.  Just  before  I  left  there  I  saw  some  abso 
lutely  reliable  clean-ups  from  All  Gold,  and  I  am  satis 
fied  that  next  year  it  will  report  a  series  of  big  claims. 
All  Gold  was  located  when  I  went  to  the  Klondike,  but, 
like  a  score  of  other  creeks,  no  one  had  prospected  it  until 
this  summer,  and  no  one  knew  more  about  it  than  I,  who 
had  never  been  near  it.  I  have  no  claims  on  All  Gold 
and  am  not  advertising  it.  So  far  as  known,  the  creek 
ranking  next  to  Bonanza  is  Dominion.  All  I  or  any  one 
can  say  is  that  it  has  some  famous  claims.  I  know  a  few 
owners  who  would  not  think  of  accepting  $100,000  for 
their  claims,  and  there  are  scores  who  would  refuse 
$50,000.  It  has  not  been  prospected  thoroughly,  and  we 
cannot  say  how  long  the  pay  streak  will  turn  out.  There 
is  a  big  possibility  of  it  rivaling  Eldorado  and  Bonanza. 
It  heads  near  by  Eldorado,  but  runs  a  large  circle  of  forty 
or  more  miles  and  empties  south  into  Indian  Kiver.  It 
is  from  forty  to  sixty  miles  up  southeast  from  Dawson.  Its 
bench  claims  have  been  recently  located,  and  it  is  not  pos 
sible  to  say  how  good  they  are.  Sulphur  has  many  de 
votees  who  firmly  believe  it  will  be  second  to  none  when 
once  prospected  thoroughly;  fully  a  dozen  more  pay 
gulches  are  simply  at  their  opening;  all  these  are  a  net 
work  in  the  Klondike  district. 

Must  a  man  stampede?     If  he  does  not  stampede  he  is 
doubtful  about  getting  a  claim;  if  he  gets  a  claim  the 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  V.  155 

question  is  whether  he  had  better  not  have  gotten  it. 
However,  we  all  stampede  on  the  Klondike.  We  see  two 
or  three  men  having  a  private  confab,  a  mysterious  walk 
and  conversation;  then  we  slyly  outfit  with  grub  and 
blankets  and  watch.  Sure  enough,  they  strike  out  up  the 
trail,  but  we  are  onto  them.  Somebody  watches  us  and 
they  too  follow,  and  finally  a  continuous  stream  flows  up 
the  gulch.  Any  miner  not  too  busy  helps  swell  it,  and  it 
grows  too  big.  An  old-timer  quickly  recognizes  a  stam 
pede  from  its  move.  The  stampeder  has  a  gait  peculiar 
to  him;  it  is  a  sort  of  camel-like  waddle — half  trot,  for 
ward  pose,  and  rapid;  the  pack  ai^d  insecure  footing  cre 
ates  this  motion,  and  all  fall  naturally  into  it.  The  nature 
of  the  case  hurries  him,  and  before  many  hours  his  mo 
tion  is  routine.  Your  legs  ache,  but  you  tramp  on;  your 
back  breaks  from  the  load  you  pack,  but  you  bear  the 
burden;  your  eyes  goggle  out  almost;  your  feet  swell; 
your  face  puffs ;  your  breath  wheezes ;  your  tongue  parches ; 
but  your  spirit  never  flags.  Pilgrim's  progress  was  never 
more  heroically  fought  over  barriers  and  opposition  than 
do  these  stampeders  fight  their  way  into  a  new  discovery. 

After  many  hours,  sometimes  days,  over  many  miles — 
twenty,  forty,  sixty — you  reach  the  discoverers  staking 
their  claims;  you  do  likewise,  on  the  principle  first  come 
first  served.  And  what  have  you?  What  we  call  here  a 
wild  cat  claim.  You  drift  hurriedly  back,  because  there 
is  always  a  chance  that  some  stay-at-home  fellow  has  gone 
before  the  commissioner  and  sworn  to  having  located  the 
claim  corresponding  to  your  number ;  and  if  such  happens, 
it  always  follows  that  the  gold  commissioner  awards  to 
him  the  ownership,  without  redress.  The  conditions  the 
whole  of  last  winter  regulating  the  recording  and  owner 
ship  of  claims  are  illustrated  by  this  remark  of  a  miner: 
"I  kick  very  little  over  two  or  three  days'  stampeding 


156  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

with  my  pack  upon  my  back  to  locate  a  claim,  but  it  is 
hell  to  get  my  record  when  I  return.  Three  or  four  days 
in  the  line  before  the  commissioner's  office,  in  the  coldest 
weather,  perhaps,  makes  one  pray  for  a  new  vocabulary  to 
damn  the  gold  commissioner,  his  assistants,  and  the  whole 
of  his  office,  with  the  Queen  for  appointing  the  horde; 
something  ten  times  as  strong  as  any  present  phrases  so 
they  may  go  through  the  thick  skin  of  the  wretches." 

I  lived  next  door  to  the  commissioner's  office  last  win 
ter  and  knew  poor  miners  to  lie  all  night  before  the  office 
door  to  be  first  in  the  morning  and  avoid  days  of  delay. 
My  own  experience  is  that  from  three  hard-run  stam 
pedes  I  had  courage  only  to  weather  the  commissioner's 
office  to  register  one  claim. 

The  recording  fee  is  $15,  and  one  must  make  affidavit 
to  having  discovered  gold  on  "Claim  No.  — ,  on  Blank 
Creek,  Klondike  Mining  District."  Of  course  the  snow 
may  be  two  feet  on  frozen  ground  that  would  require  three 
weeks  to  get  down  to  a  depth  where  colors  can  be  found; 
but  the  law  requires  this  oath,  and  everybody  subscribes 
to  it.  However,  miners  do  not  complain  so  much  about 
Canadian  laws  as  they  do  about  officials  who  take  for 
granted,  after  the  Queen's  tax  is  faithfully  exacted,  that 
what  is  left  in  the  possession  of  the  poor  American  is 
legitimate  prey  for  her  servants.  .^  « 

This  is  a  bit  of  dry  reading,  and  though  I  can  go  on 
telling  you  what  I  know  about  these  creeks,  you  may 
please  rest  on  my  assurance  that  the  bottom  will  not  fall 
out  of  the  Klondike  mining  district  for  years  to  come.  The 
Lord  knows  how  much  it  may  strengthen.  I  only  dwell 
upon  items  because  I  have  seen  elaborate  interviews  con 
cerning  Klondike  by  men  who  never  were  over  the  summit 
or  on  the  Yukon,  and  I  have  also  seen  men  to  come  down 
out  of  Eldorado  and  declare  from  their  actual  observa- 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  157 

tion  that  Eldorado,  even,  would  little  more  than  pay 
working  expenses,  and  that  next  year,  unless  all  royalty 
was  taken  off,  it  would  be  abandoned  as  worthless. 

Sensation  pictures  of  the  Klondike,  like  sensation  in  all 
forms,  spread  by  unlimited  express.  The  first  bench 
claim  discovered  on  Skookum  Jim  Pup  was  an  awfully 
good  thing.  It  panned  out  better  than  any  digging  Skoo 
kum  Jim  owned.  But  do  some  of  you  remember  the 
newspaper  accounts  of  it,  written  by  a  special  correspon 
dent — taken  on  the  ground,  as  it  were  ?  "Two  men  stood 
guard  on  the  claim  while  the  third  dragged  loose  the  moss 
and  scraped  the  gold  nuggets  into  the  sack."  I  thought 
at  first  the  vigilantes  ought  to  organize  just  to  hang  the 
newspaper  correspondents,  but  upon  sober  thoughts  it  oc 
curred  to  me  that  that  correspondent  was  not  by  any 
means  so  great  a  liar  as  was  great  the  lie  he  told,  for  it 
must  be  noted  that  the  newspaper  men  were  so  numerous 
and  so  bad  and  turbulent  that  the  miner  made  him  a  spe 
cial  class  of  the  cheechokers  and  always  guarded  himself 
and  his  with  special  vigilance.  When  the  miners  on  Skoo 
kum  Pup  saw  the  special  approach  their  claim,  I  have  no 
doubt  in  my  mind  they  flew  to  their  shotguns  for  protec 
tion,  and  therefore  the  poor  fellow  wrote  only  what  was 
before  him,  actual  fact. 

There  have  been  numerous  bench  claims  discovered, 
some  quite  equal  in  glory  to  Skookum  Jim  and  quite  bet 
ter.  There  have  been  actually  hundreds  of  bench  claims 
discovered  the  past  summer  that  pay  from  wages  to  small 
fortunes.  From  these  come  almost  total  relief  to  the 
overflow  of  humanity  this  season.  Almost  every  energetic 
horse-sense  man  on  the  Klondike  can  make  it  possible  to 
earn  his  living  or  more  this  winter,  and  there  will  be  no 
starving,  suffering,  or  want,  because  these  bench  claims 
will  help  him  out.  It  is  possible  to  work  most  of  them 


158  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

any  and  all  seasons.  A  drawback  or  discount  on  gulch 
claims  is  that  they  have  only  a  harvest-time  for  the  winter 
season.  It  is  even  figured  by  respectable  authority  that  the 
bench  claims  for  1898  will  fill  to  overflowing  the  sacks 
necessary  to  transport  all  dust  from  the  creek  claims.  This 
is  a  bright  side  which  I  am  quite  glad  to  fix  to  what  other 
wise  would  in  my  estimation  alone  make  the  Klondike 
good. 

The  mysterious  ways  of  bench  claims  are  something 
like  this :  Neighbor  Si  remarked  to  me  about  August  1 : 
"Sour  Dough,  I  am  going  up  Bonanza  to  look  at  a  bench 
claim.  Bill  Shark  tells  me  of  several  unrecorded  claims 
at  the  mouth  of  Adams  Pup."  He  returned  next  day  for 
advice.  "I  do  not  know  what  to  do.  The  lay  is  all  right, 
but  there  is  no  prospecting  done,  and  no  one  'mows  if 
there  be  gold  or  no  gold  there.  Bill  Shark  must  have 
half  the  claim  for  putting  me  onto  it.  I  do  not  want  to 
lose  my  right  of  locating  on  a  barren  claim/'  Bill  Shark 
fees  the  commissioner's  clerk,  who  keeps  him  in  abstracts 
of  unrecorded  or  recorded  claims.  He  sells  the  vacant 
claims  out  for  the  above  interest,  and  whether  good  or 
bad  he  is  no  loser,  but  a  possible  gainer.  I  therefore  con 
demn  any  partnership  with  Bill  Shark,  and  Si  did  not 
record  No.  2  north  on  Adams  Creek.  About  the  last  day 
of  August  my  neighbor  greeted  me  thus:  "I  ought  to 
beat  you  over  the  head,  old  Sour  Dough.  I  just  came 
down  from  the  creek,  and  the  owners  of  No.  2  Adams 
Creek,  my  abandoned  claim,  are  taking  out  $100  to  the 
man."  Of  course  he  should  have  beat  me. 

The  growth,  the  resources  of  the  Klondike  have  been 
discussed  from  day  to  day  since  its  discovery.  Although 
we  disentangle  the  lies,  exonerate  impostors,  deduct  the 
natural-born  boom  of  outside  leagues,  and  discount  for 
tunes,  yet  we  see  it  grow  bigger  and  better,  steadily  and 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.D.  159 

surely.  The  pay  district  of  two  years  ago  was  an  area 
twenty  miles  in  diameter;  one  year  ago  forty  miles;  at 
the  present  time  it  is  sixty  miles  from  Dawson  to  the  fur 
thest  tributaries  of  the  Klondike  which  have  good  dig 
gings. 

Never  have  the  best  mines  on  Eldorado  been  eclipsed, 
but  Dominion  has  prospects  promising  as  well.  What  we 
called  wild  cat  claims  on  wild  cat  creeks  the  past  year  are 
fast  turning  out  good  pay  by  prospecting  or  developing. 
This  is  the  simplest  proposition  in  the  world:  That  the 
output  of  the  Klondike  district  will,  like  its  area,  double 
from  year  to  year.  I  will  not  predict  its  limit — maybe 
ten  years.  But  we  must  not  blind  ourselves  into  a  belief 
that  it  is  a  South  African  bubble,  that  it  will  ever  break 
and  scatter  the  debris  of  human  aspirations  and  air  castles 
over  the  land.  It  ought  to  be  the  duty,  however,  of  some 
humanitarian  to  systematize  the  business  and  migration 
to  the  Klondike.  At  every  loading-place,  at  every  pass 
should  be  stationed  an  inspector  with  a  club,  as  they  place 
sanitary  officers  and  inspectors  at  points  to  prevent  driving 
or  carrying  of  unsound  beef,  cattle,  and  hogs  into  new 
markets,  with  instructions  to  beat  back  that  part  of  the 
mob  not  fitted  for  the  field.  Anybody  will  make  a  suc 
cessful  miner  with  horse-sense,  with  the  endurance  of  the 
mule,  the  honesty  and  integrity  of  a  Chinaman.  Men 
with  money  not  only  should  pass,  but  should  be  invited 
to  pass.  Old  men  should  be  beat  hard  over  the  head  and 
held  back.  Very  young  ones  should  be  kicked  back.  Girl* 
without  mothers  are  surely  lost  there.  Brides  and  hardy 
families  may  go  through,  and — yes,  sure ! — send  that  boat 
load  of  widows.  It  cannot  hurt  the  widows  and  may  do 
the  country  lots  of  good.  Does  the  country  want  ser 
vants  and  waiter  girls  ?  Well,  yes ;  but  we  can  get  on  with 
men  and  Chinamen  until  the  moral  atmosphere  is  steril- 


160  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

ized.  In  plain  terms,  no  one  should  pass  who  has  no  vis 
ible  means  of  support — no  bums,  no  all-round  handy  men, 
no  gentlemen  or  ladies  of  leisure;  they  simply  spoil  the 
industrious,  and  the  natural  descent  of  men  will  furnish 
the  market  with  more  than  the  demand  for  such. 

MISCELLANEOUS. 

And  are  there  any  good  things  on  the  Klondike  else 
than  gold?  It  depends  much  upon  how  one  is  built.  I 
may  here  mention  a  society  ball  that  broke  up  at  daylight 
next  morning — it  is  good  to  dance  all  night.  Of  course 
there  are  some  good  people  living  here,  chiefly  old-timers 
and  natives — not  cheechokers.  Society  is  beginning  to 
take  on  the  velvety  distinction  of  hand  and  hood  that  dis 
tinguishes  it  outside,  and  you  see  a  society  belle  go  along 
not  turning  up  her  nose  at  some  obscure  sister,  but  fixed 
intent  upon  her  own  gum  boots  as  she  dashes  on.  Nor 
does  Mrs.  Skookum  Jim  deign  to  be  so  formal  with  Madam 
Wild  Cat  Sam  as  in  old  times.  And  I  am  pleased  to  tell 
you  that  many  of  the  things  are  not  too  bad.  Mosquitoes  ? 
While  in  the  gulches  they  are  plentiful,  yet  in  Dawson 
they  are  scarcely  annoying.  A  good  many  funny  stories 
are  founded  on  fact.  I  saw  people  take  in  immense  sacks 
in  which  to  carry  out  their  gold,  and  it  is  a  fact  that  some 
carried  in  garden  rakes  to  rake  up  nuggets  with  from  the 
river  beds ;  but  it  may  have  only  been  told  to  me  as  a  joke 
that  a  man  went  in  with  a  lot  of  cages  to  bring  out  Klon 
dike  mosquitoes  to  sell  to  you  people  outside  for  canary 
birds.  And  I  did  dilate  in  foregoing  pages  upon  the  in 
tense  satisfaction  and  comfort  of  the  long  winter  nights. 
With  loads  of  furs  underneath  and  loads  on  top,  one  curls 
up  so  snug  he  dreads  getting  up  at  all,  and  as  daylight 
appears  at  10  see  what  a  long,  sweet  sleep  one  has.  Then 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.D.  161 

he  gets  his  breakfast,  which  scarcely  over,  finds  it  noon 
time,  and  inasmuch  as  one  is  hungry  all  the  time,  he  hails 
his  dinner-time  with  the  delight  of  an  infant.  Then  right 
on  the  heels  of  dinner  is  dark — supper-time.  You  are 
just  as  hungry,  and  supper  is  just  as  much  of  a  relish  as 
the  breakfast.  The  three  delights  follow  one  on  the  heels 
of  the  other  so  rapidly  that  one  is  in  a  continual  ecstasy. 
But  if  the  winter  is  sumptuous  summer  is  gorgeous.  It 
is  truly  hard  to  delineate  the  summer  in  Dawson.  Early 
summer  is  the  rainy  season  in  Dawson ;  this  means  a  smart 
thunder-shower  once  or  twice  a  week  for  a  season  of  six 
weeks.  In  fact,  it  would  not  count  as  the  rainy  season 
anywhere  else.  The  sun  in  summer  hangs  heavy  over 
head  for  several  hours  in  the  middle  of  the  day.  The 
day  might  be  tedious  and  oppressive,  only  that  the  moun 
tains  surrounding  Dawson  are  so  high  that  the  midnight 
sun  of  the  poets  never  shines.  I  must  confess  it  wakes 
up  a  little  too  early  for  the  lover  of  winter  festivities,  yet 
it  is  not  harsh,  and  not  until  about  noon  does  it  seem  to 
want  to  show  off;  then  about  8  o'clock  it  hides  behind  the 
near  peaks  again,  but  does  not  go  down.  The  day's  work 
is  done,  the  dishes  washed,  the  children  to  bed.  Oh,  no. 
You  don't  get  a  Klondike  kid  to  bed  at  8  o'clock.  But 
the  most  tranquil,  interesting  twilight,  the  most  raptur 
ous  the  idlest  dreamer  could  picture!  That  is  nothing. 
Every  nation  in  every  clime  enjoys  its  twilight,  in  which 
the  giddy  young  and  the  loony  old  have  their  twilight 
walks  and  sittings  and  courtship.  Of  course  they  do;  but 
what  twilights !  Two  lovers  on  the  veranda  have  wrought 
up  by  cooing  and  wooing  two  hearts  to  beat  as  one,  when 
the  electric  light  is  snapped  upon  them;  this  because  of 
the  dark  creeping  on.  Here  the  twilight  is  all  night. 
Stop  a  moment  to  think.  You,  young  man,  may  walk  so 
far  out  the  avenue  with  a  sparkling  girl  who  must  remind 


162  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

you:  "Now  we  must  turn  back.  Ma  says  I  must  not  be 
out  late  at  night."  On  the  Klondike,  on  the  banks  of  the 
Yukon,  you,  like  the  river,  go  on  and  on  forever,  for  dark 
doesn't  come,  and  all  this  time  the  air  is  enchanting,  sim 
ply  cool ;  the  sun  simply  sets  and  a  sunset  guides  you  on. 
The  high  peaks  and  cliffs  hang  over  and  you  dream  sub 
lime  things.  The  wide,  swift  Yukon  may  sing  to  you  or 
thrill  and  startle  you  by  turns.  There  are  scarcely  stars 
— planets — enough  overhead  to  watch  over  you.  There  are 
round  and  about  you  other  things  to  recall  you  to  things 
earthly,  but  you  are  not  embarrassed  by  fear  of  darkness, 
and  only  when  full  to  overflowing  need  you  quit.  Ah, 
yes,  a  summer  night  in  Klondike,  a  dear  friend  on  the 
banks  of  the  Yukon,  a  sweetheart  or  an  old  chum  with  his 
pipe  for  a  stroll,  or  lone  reverie,  and  this  for  hours  and 
hours  and  from  day  to  day,  makes  life  worth  the  living 
indeed.  This  will  make  Dawson  a  summer  retreat  early 
sought  for  in  the  hereafter. 

I  may  add  that  regardless  of  what  has  been  said  of  gum 
boots,  they  will  have  lost  prestige  by  next  season.  Now 
half  of  Main  Street  is  perfectly  dry  and  a  fine  promenade, 
while  the  work  of  building  up  the  bad  part  will  not  fail. 
Even  this  season  was  not  a  poor  one  for  tourists.  Our 
swell  hotel  charged  an  ounce  for  a  chicken  dinner  and  $10 
for  a  bottle  of  claret,  but  one  must  only  dine  out  on  the 
invitation  of  his  Eldorado  friend.  As  for  his  coffee,  he 
must  not  be  particular  between  the  flavor  of  St.  Charles 
evaporated  cream  and  fresh  cow's  milk.  Yes,  there  is 
fresh  milk  there,  sure.  I  saw  a  cow  come  and  sell  for 
$1,000.  Oh!  Why,  yes;  she  was  worth  it.  The  milk 
sold  for  $16  per  gallon.  Some  fool  paid  $10  per  gallon 
for  milk?  No  fool;  he  sold  milk  punches  at  $1.50  per 
glass.  "Oh,  the  ass  is  he  who  drank  milk  punches."  Not 
quite.  After  he  drank  one  milk  punch  his  claim,  valued 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  163 

at  $20,000,  had  enhanced,  in  his  mind,  to  $40,000,  after 
which  he  could  afford  another  punch;  then  he  felt  as  rich 
as  Big  Alex  or  any  other  man  on  the  Klondike.  Do  you 
see  ?  And  our  big  hotel  made  an  announcement  that  they 
owned  an  interest  in  a  cow  and  patrons  might  expect  fresh 
milk. 

Possibly  the  greatest  exaggeration — in  plain  terms,  the 
biggest  lies — told  of  the  Klondike  is  in  the  matter  of 
health.  I  think  you  can  all  recall  harassing  tales  of  ex 
tensive  graveyards.  The  facts  are  brief.  I  heard  the  re 
port  read  by  Father  Judge,  in  charge  of  the  only  hospital 
in  Dawson,  in  March  of  this  year,  and  inasmuch  as  few 
people  had  homes,  nearly,  if  not  all,  the  sick  were  found 
at  this  hospital.  Thirteen  deaths  had  occurred  in  it  from 
all  causes  during  its  existence,  almost  from  the  founding 
of  Dawson,  where  were  5,000  people.  We  have  a  right  to 
expect,  as  it  is  a  very  low  death-rate,  ten  deaths  per  thou 
sand,  or  in  this  population  fifty  deaths  for  a  year.  Pos 
sibly  the  hospital  was  only  nine  months  old;  then  thirty- 
seven  deaths  would  represent  a  lo,w  mortality  where  in 
fact  were  only  thirteen.  The  prevailing  disease  is  ma 
larial  fever,  which  commonly  merges  into  typhoid.  It  is 
in  every  phase  the  mountain  fever  of  our  early  days  in 
Montana.  It  is,  in  fact,  a  typho-malarial  fever.  I  can 
say  that  in  my  own  experience  every  case  treated  early  in 
its  inception  is  controlled  by  the  usual  malarial  usage  of 
the  Eocky  Mountain  regions.  If  neglected  or  typhoid 
occurs  before  one  sees  it,  the  management  still  is  simple 
and  effective.  Dr.  Chambers,  who  had  several  years  on 
the  Yukon  with  a  previous  experience  in  Montana,  and 
who  had  the  bulk  of  the  hospital  practice  the  past  year, 
said  none  of  his  typhoid  cases  died  unless  complicated 
with  age  or  scurvy;  that  in  fact  very  few  die  from  any 
account.  I  am  sorry  to  say  you  may  lately  have  authenti- 


164  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

cated  accounts  of  more  than  the  usual  deaths  in  Dawson. 
Well,  this  is  the  way  of  it:  In  the  severest  typhoid  sea 
son,  in  the  midst  of  the  epidemic,  early  in  August,  a  Cana 
dian  medical  law  was  enforced  in  Dawson  which  incapaci 
tated  all  American  physicians,  none  having  a  Canadian 
license.  Only  the  Americans  had  experience  in  this  dis 
ease,  and  they  were  doing  the  practice  chiefly.  Throwing 
this  epidemic  strictly  from  the  safe  management  of  this 
class  into  the  charge  of  the  other,  who  actually  could  not 
manage  it,  who  knew  nothing  about  it,  must  necessarily 
create  horrors.  I  fear  this  season  will  pan  out  many 
more  deaths  than  would  necessarily  have  followed  a  sen 
sible  or  decent  treatment  of  American  doctors.  In  fact, 
I  do  not  hesitate  to  say,  inasmuch  as  most  victims  are 
American,  our  Government  could  give  it  some  of  the 
attention  it  bestows  upon  preserving  the  seals  from 
British-American  rapacity. 

I  do  think  in  the  near  future  the  Alps  and  Appennines 
will  suffer  from  the  competition  of  this  Yukon  valley.  You 
have  all  and  everything  here  you  have  there  and  a  thou 
sand  strange  interesting  things  more.  On  my  return  I 
experienced  on  the  trail  over  the  summit  almost  the  ex 
treme  interest  sought  for  in  a  climb  of  the  Alps ;  the  mis 
step,  the  slide,  the  dash  over  the  fearful  glacier  can  be 
made  quite  possible  for  any  one's  ambition.  The  various 
transportation  companies  for  the  Yukon  have  not  yet  dis 
covered  the  genius  in  me,  nor  have  purchased  my  service 
to  write  up  the  advantages  of  any  special  route  in  or  out 
of  the  country,  therefore  I  will  have  little  to  say  of  it. 
The  scenery  about  the  beginning  of  September  on  the 
Yukon  below  Dawson  and  as  well  above  Dawson  to  the 
lakes  is  worth  portrayal.  I  happened,  coming  up,  to  board 
a  fine,  large  river  boat,  and  must  confess  to  a  delightful 
excursion.  However,  it  was  a  little  tedious,  because  once 


SAMUEL  8A  WBONES,  M.  D.  165 

a  day  we  would  run  on  a  sand  bar — tie  up,  as  it  were,  for 
a  day.  Yes,  we  always  got  off,  but  when  the  girl  you  left 
behind  the  year  previous  begins  to  haunt  you  and  you  have 
had  a  date  made  for  her,  it  is  just  a  little  bit  exasperating 
to  have  to  change  that  date  further  off  every  day.  How 
ever,  big  boats  can  climb  the  Yukon  readily  to  White 
Horse  if  the  management  is  sufficient.  At  Five  Fingers 
we  dressed  in  life-preservers,  but  the  boat  climbed  up  as 
if  on  a  stampede.  I  have  no  fearful  catastrophe  to  chron 
icle  at  White  Horse  or  crossing  Windy  Arm  nor  over  the 
lakes  to  Bennett.  We  had  a  choice  to  walk  over  the  Dyea 
trail  twenty  miles  or  ride  to  Skagway  forty  miles  on 
horseback.  This  is  easy.  Yes;  but  they  say  Skagway, 
like  Hades,  is  paved  not  with  skulls,  but  with  dead  horses. 
How  ?  Why,  they  would  tumble  over  the  rocks  and  break 
a  leg  or  back.  Well,  I,  not  used  to  riding,  stampeded 
across  to  Dyea. 

Now,  there  is  an  easy  way  over  the  Dyea  trail,  not 
much  talked  of,  not  much  sought,  in  fact.  It  is  the  wire 
tramway.  Three  of  us,  wet,  tired,  and  hungry,  wheedled 
a  tender  at  a  way  station  to  let  us  take  the  place  of  the 
big  stones  for  ballast  and  ride  down.  Mr.  A.  was  suffer 
ing  injury;  Mr.  B.,  your  humble  servant,  was  leg  weary; 
Mr.  C. — well,  he  would  walk  because  of  trailing  a  valuable 
dog.  A.  took  his  departure;  then  I  took  a  seat,  tailor 
fashion,  in  the  little  bucket  and  was  wafted  down,  on, 
over,  up  and  down,  across  immense  chasms,  gulches, 
through  treetops,  scraping  rocks  and  underbrush,  again 
in  the  clouds,  fast  and  slow,  creaking,  screeching,  but 
which  I  interpreted  the  devil  giggling,  laughing.  And 
then  the  reflection  of  a  possible  halt  over  one  of  the  horrid 
gulfs  and  a  cold  rain  or  a  break  and  a  fall;  to  live  a  life 
on  the  Yukon,  only  to  die  an  ignominious  death  from  a 
shallow  little  bucket,  scattered  over  the  rocks  and  mixed 


166  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

with  the  scores  of  dead  horses !  Well,  I  invented  an  appe 
tite  for  excuse  to  get  out  at  the  next  station  for  lunch  and 
await  Mr.  C.  on  the  trail.  While  at  lunch  appeared  Mr. 
A.  Oh,  yes;  he  thought  he  would  get  out  at  the  station 
and  wait  to  see  if  I  got  through  all  right,  but  he  hid  when 
I  came  for  fear  I  would  call  him  in  again.  He  told  me 
Mr.  C.  too  came  down  in  a  bucket  and,  like  himself,  had 
a  very  pleasant  ride.  C.  struck  off  down  the  trail  afoot. 
I  must  confess  I  wasn't  solicitous  for  the  other  fellows,  nor 
had  I  a  dog  to  look  up,  yet  I  made  myself  believe  I  was 
quite  strong  again  and  that  it  would  do  me  good  to  walk 
the  balance  of  the  trail.  Why,  of  course  it  is  a  nice  ride. 
Try  it  some  time.  Three  weeks  was  my  time  from  Daw- 
son  to  Seattle.  It  might  have  been  made  two  weeks  by  a 
little  rustling. 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.D.  167 


CANADIAN  BOERS. 

WHAT  ails  thee,  Samuel  Sawbones,  Esq.,  M.  D.  ?  "Noth 
ing."  Perhaps!  He  was  moping.  Maybe  the  missives 
from  home  were  not  inspiring,  though  certainly  stimulat 
ing.  Samuel  was  standing  the  climate  heroically,  as  wit 
nessed  by  his  every  day  braving  the  weather  and  greeting 
his  old-time  friends  with  all  sorts  of  cheer  and  assurance. 
He  was  not  dyspeptic,  for  this  winter  is  curing  all  the 
dyspeptics  in  the  camp.  I  fancy  it  cures  them  under  all 
conditions.  The  extreme  cold  from  a  scientific  standpoint 
grows  a  fierce  appetite,  and  from  my  observation  it  fits 
one  with  an  ample  digestion  to  cope  with  the  extra  food 
devoured.  In  good  faith,  I  believe  the  Klondike  may  be 
made  a  health  resort  for  poor  dyspeptics.  Well,  then,  of 
course  it  must  be  Sawbones'  love  affairs  that  prey  upon 
him.  I  am  afraid  I  may  not  have  detailed  all  the  items 
received  from  his  dear  girl  left  behind.  But  they  may 
harass  you  and  we  will  pass  them  by.  I  myself  would 
not  have  cause  to  molt  from  all  the  buffs  and  rebuffs  of  his 
comparatively  smooth  love  affairs,  but  then  I  am  a  veteran 
in  the  wars  of  the — well,  say  liver,  for  it  plays  as  much 
the  part  of  love  as  any  other  organ.  For  what  is  love, 
anyway?  Some  may  say:  "A  great  roll  of  'gilt  edge' 
churned  from  the  milk  of  human  kindness,  which  is  relish 
forever."  Another  will  remark:  "Yes,  then  we  must  go 
on  churning,  ever  churning,  or  else  it  will  stale." 

But  I  fear  Dr.  Sawbones  was  suffering  persecutions  of 
his  professional  brethren.  The  Canadian  doctors  coming 
in  look  the  landscape  over  and  say :  "Nothing  for  me  until 


168  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

the  blasted  Americans  are  routed."  Then  begins  the  cru 
sade.  The  fine  friendly  reciprocity  of  Canada  says: 
"Graduates  of  our  own  medical  schools  may  practice  any 
where  in  the  Dominion  by  virtue  of  such  diploma.  All 
others  must  appear  before  an  examining  board  of  the  Do 
minion  for  a  license  to  practice."  Of  course  Sawbones 
could  not  go  outside,  where  alone  such  examining  board 
was  to  be  found,  therefore  he  must  abide  the  combined 
efforts  of  these  hungry  Canadians  to  turn  him  out.  As 
Americans  very  much  predominated  on  the  Klondike, 
necessarily  the  chief  physicians  were  Americans.  They, 
with  the  usual  stock  of  Yankee  Doodle  in  their  blood,  held 
fast  to  the  end.  The  end  came  one  day  when  one  and  all, 
like  the  rebel  angels,  were  summoned  before  the  great  high 
priest  of  the  celestial  city  of  Dawson.  This  great  high 
priest  is  nothing  but  a  captain  of  the  most  worthy  mounted 
police  on  foot,  alias  his  worship  the  justice  of  the  peace. 
And  these  captains  of  mounted  police  on  the  Klondike 
appear  to  me  to  about  as  nearly  approach  the  dignity,  the 
honor,  and  the  virtue  of  what  such  officer  of  the  mounted 
police  should  command  as  does  the  vanquished  knight  un 
horsed,  disarmed,  and  enslaved.  The  American  doctors 
approached  with  fear  and  trembling  the  august  presence 
of  one  of  these  captains,  these  justices  of  the  peace,  and  I 
must  confess  to  an  unusual  consideration.  They  were  fined 
simply  one  dollar  and  no  costs.  And  what  a  fall  was 
there  of  doctors'  signs.  Only  Dr.  Sawbones,  though  not 
slow  to  concur  in  the  sentence  of  his  worship,  was  slow  to 
pull  down  his  shingle.  The  doctor  had  innumerable 
friends  on  the  gulches,  and  these  he  wished  to  see  as  they 
might  drop  into  town,  and  except  through  such  sign  one 
was  quite  hidden  from  every  one  except  by  accidental 
meeting.  But  with  due  consideration  for  the  decree  of 
his  worship  the  captain  of  the  mounted  police  on  foot, 


SAMUEL  SA  WBONES,  M.  D.  169 

Dr.  Sawbones  carefully  covered  the  M.  D.  on  his  shingle 
to  destroy  the  identity  of  his  nefarious  calling — his  poach 
ing  upon  the  hungry  cheechokers  of  Canada  whose  pills 
and  pukes  lay  idly  waiting  to  get  in  their  work.  I  must 
confess  to  a  sad  scene  on  witnessing  Samuel  Sawbones, 
Esq.,  M.  D.,  carefully  cover  his  title  with  several  wrap 
pings  of  useless  gauze  and  the  tears  course  down  his 
bronzed  cheeks,  worn  with  years  of  toil,  exposure  and  re 
verses  under  the  auspices  and  vouched  for  by  this  same 
title.  He  said  he  was  wrapping  up  his  heart,  and  it  might 
possibly  not  bear  the  pressure  and  quit  beating.  He  quoted 
some  unintelligible  Latin  to  be  found  in  his  diploma,  in 
which  the  great  heads  granting  announced  his  fitness  to 
practice  medicine  and  clothe  him  with  this  same  M.  D. 
that  now  he  must  haul  down. 

Samuel  survived  his  hostility  to  his  feelings  and  was 
dreaming  of  the  future,  when  he  had  an  unwelcome  visitor 
in  shape  and  person  of  the  same  minion  of  the  law  as  here 
tofore  had  informed  him  of  his  transgression  by  practice 
of  medicine.  This  time  was  not  an  indictment  for  prac 
ticing,  but  for  his  poor  little  shingle.  "Any  person  not 
registered  who  takes  or  uses  any  name,  title,  addition,  or 
description  implying  or  calculated  to  lead  people  to  infer 
that  he  is  registered  or  that  he  is  recognized  by  law  as  a 
physician,  surgeon,  etc.,  shall  be  liable  to  conviction  and 
fine."  His  poor  little  gauze-covered  shingle  "haunts  them 
still !"  "It  must  down." 

This  assumption  seemed  heaping  insult  upon  injury,  and 
poor  Dr.  Sawbones  felt  outraged  beyond  limit.  He  was  of 
course  yanked  up  before  his  worshipful  the  justice  of  the 
peace,  a  captain  of  the  Northwest  Mounted  Police,  as  per 
former,  occasion.  Here  he  was  unceremoniously  fined  $50 
or  jailed  till  paid.  He  protested  that  he  had  the  title 
M.  D.  duly  covered^  but  to  no  avail,  for  that  very  digni- 


170  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

fied,  honorable,  worthy  officer  of  the  Dominion  of  Canada's 
very  pet  body  of  law  preservers  so  humbled  himself  as  to 
confess  that  he  himself  had  paraded  past  the  premises  of 
the  accused  and  had  witnessed  the  sign  as  per  indictment. 
That  it  was  covered  with  two  thicknesses  of  gauze  could 
cut  no  figure  in  the  eyes  of  the  law.  Then  Dr.  Sawbones 
pleaded  that  he  was  duly  commissioned  with  the  M.  D.  by 
the  great  University  of  Pennsylvania,  and  that  in  grant 
ing  him  "doctor"  he  could  not  think  it  meant  him  to  be 
doctor  in  the  United  States  and  upon  crossing  the  line  he 
must  cut  "doctor"  off  his  card.  He  presumed  he  could 
call  himself  a  doctor  or  be  called  doctor  anywhere  in  the 
world  without  incurring  any  criminal  penalty;  that  the 
American  Government  had  no  embargo  against  Canadians 
coming  over  in  the  States  and  calling  themselves  doctors. 
"The  University  of  Pennsylvania  and  the  United  States 
be  damned.  Our  law  is  as  you  see  it  in  this  indictment." 
I  say  so,  too,  for  Dr.  Sawbones,  upon  writing  to  the  Uni 
versity  of  Pennsylvania,  received  the  very  meek  answer 
that  if  Canada  chooses  to  imprison  one  of  its  graduates 
for  the  presumption  of  calling  himself  doctor,  it  was  right 
and  proper  to  take  the  medicine. 

Samuel  Sawbones,  M.  D.,  was  literally  dragged  off  to 
jail,  and  only  because  he  believed  that  after  thirty  years' 
labor,  vouched  for  by  an  M.  D.  and  granted  by  a  self- 
reputed  respectable  institution,  he  could  go  before  the 
world  and  say  he  was  a  doctor.  In  jail?  No;  jail  is  no 
name  for  the  pen  he  was  thrown-  into.  A  miserable  hole 
in  which  were  a  miscellaneous  mass  of  humanity — four  in 
sane,  a  dozen  drunks,  a  dozen  criminals  intermixed;  no 
beds,  no  chairs,  no  room.  This  lot  were  intermingled 
through  the  night  in  all  shapes  and  conditions,  as  few  had 
room  on  the  floor  to  stretch  themselves.  Samuel  alter 
nated  with  another  prisoner  the  use  of  a  bench  four  feet 


SAMUEL  8A  WBONES,  M.  D.  171 

long.  The  night  grew  cold  in  spite  of  the  close  condition, 
but  he  had  no  blanket.  The  big,  husky  police  attending 
was  appealed  to,  but  in  vain.  Certainly  Sawbones  could 
have  had  a  blanket  if  he  had  handed  over  his  "poke"  to 
the  guard;  he  might  even  have  had  the  privilege  to  spread 
it  over  the  other  poor  devils  and  stretch  himself.  That 
it  was  beastly,  inhuman,  barbarous  treatment  is  putting  it 
in  too  mild  terms;  that  putting  him  in  jail  or  fining  him 
was  dastardly  mean,  contemptibly  dirty  work  of  the  jus 
tice,  of  the  Canadian  doctors,  through  several  cats'  paws  to 
be  found  low  enough  among  them,  is  too  plausible  to  listen 
to  any  other  argument.  That  it  was  absolutely  illegal, 
because  his  shingle  was  in  full  intent  and  purpose  entirely 
without  any  symbol  of  doctor  thereon  I  am  personally  able 
to  avow,  for  I  can  make  affidavit  that  such  were  the  con 
ditions.  But  the  mounted  police  captain  who  could  so 
easily  and  naturally  assume  the  role  of  spy  saw  the  sign 
with  different  eyes  than  mine,  which  rested  daily  upon  it, 
and  there  was  no  redress.  In  fact,  during  my  stay  there 
I  never  saw  redress  in  any  case.  Now  and  then  one  could 
get  justice  by  virtue  of  the  position  in  which  he  was 
thrown.  For  instance,  I  overheard  the  following  quiz 
zing  by  Dr.  Sawbones  and  answer: 

"Hello,  Dr.  Le  Bum!  You  were  not  at  the  American 
doctor's  picnic  before  his  worship  the  justice  of  the  peace, 
the  captain  of  the  police.  How  were  you  left  out  ?" 

'  "Why?  Well,  it  is  simply  this,  but  do  not  tell  it.  I 
doctored  the  captain  lately,  and  he  did  not  like  me  there 
for  fear  I  might  let  go  some  ugly  evidence." 

But  in  the  matter  of  persecution  the  doctors  had  not 
more  to  complain  of  than  the  miners  and  the  people  gen 
erally.  N"ot  that  the  laws  are  so  bad  but  that  the  laws 
are  badly  administered.  The  Queen's  tax  for  lumber  is 
only  a  matter  of  1  cent  per  running  foot  for  cabin  logs, 


172  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

but  when  I  asked  for  a  permit  to  cut  logs  to  build  a  cabin 
I  was  referred  to  Smith  &  Co.,  for,  says  the  timber  in 
spector,  we  gave  this  firm  the  grant  of  twenty  miles  (more 
or  less)  up  the  Yukon  for  all  the  logs.  Smith  &  Co.  said 
yes,  you  may  cut  cabin  logs  on  our  grant,  but  you  must 
pay  us  7  cents  per  running  foot  for  logs.  You  see,  we 
must  pay  the  timber  inspector  4  cents  per  foot.  Well, 
you  know  we  must  make  a  little  profit,  so  must  charge 
you  7  cents  for  the  same.  This  is  fact,  not  fancy.  Then 
in  another  direction  comes  this  fact:  I  discover  a  mine. 
After  staking  comes  recording.  I  approach  the  commis 
sioner  with  my  location  notice  and  fee  of  $15,  which  he 
scrutinizes,  then  advises  one  of  two  ways:  "This  ground 
is  not  surveyed  ground  and  we  cannot  record  it  until  the 
government  surveyor  plats  it,"  or  "We  have  not  time  to 
day  to  look  this  claim  up  to  see  if  it  is  open  to  location, 
therefore  call  again  day  after  to-morrow."  During  the 
interim  this  claim  is  investigated  by  special  agents  or  tools, 
and  if  they  report  it  a  good  or  promising  claim  my  answer 
will  be:  "I  am  sorry  to  say  the  claim  in  question  has 
been  recorded  by  John  Doe  previous  to  your  application." 
These  agents  are  about  Dawson  looking  for  prospectors, 
whom  they  approach  thus:  "I  will  put  you  into  a  first- 
class  claim,  granted,  of  course,  that  you  deed  me  a  half 
interest  in  the  same."  This  is  no  picture  drawn  from 
my  imagination,  but  such  a  frequent  transaction  that  we 
all  claim  it  is  the  rule.  The  Klondike  Nugget,  a  lively 
newspaper  of  Dawson,  has  given  scores  of  cases,  with  full 
proof,  just  as  I  relate  this,  and  no  one  in  Dawson  stops  to 
question  the  truth  of  it.  And  I  give  this  as  only  a  fair 
representation  of  justice  in  any  and  all  dealing  we  may 
have  with  the  Canadian  officials  governing  the  Yukon  Ter 
ritory. 
This,  like  in  the  case  of  Dr.  Sawbones,  has  broken  the 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  173 

backbone  of  scores  of  good  honest  miners  and  driven  them 
out  of  the  country  in  poverty  and  distress.  Only  those 
Americans  who  have  good  claims  or  a  foothold  in  an 
established  business  can  be  induced  to  remain  in  the  coun 
try,  and  very  few  from  the  outside  feel  at  liberty  to  come 
in.  Come,  Dr.  Sawbones,  cheer  up.  We  are  in  the  same 
boat.  As  you  were  persecuted  rather  than  prosecuted, 
thus  have  most  of  us  suffered  and  we  still  live.  Cheer  up, 
my  boy;  not  that  there  is  a  day  of  judgment  and  of  re 
taliation  coming,  but  on  general  principles  of  manhood. 
Eead  your  prayers,  my  boy.  Head  "From  the  crafts  and 
the  assaults  of  the  devil,  good  Lord  deliver  me;  from 
hypocrisy,  from  envy,  hatred  and  malice,  and  all  unchar- 
itableness,  from  all  the  deceits  of  the  world,  the  flesh  and 
the  devil,  good  Lord  deliver  me!"  You  will  feel  better 
after  that,  I  am  sure. 

In  the  matter  of  Dr.  Sawbones'  imprisonment,  this  was 
not  for  any  persistency  or  obstinacy  in  quitting  practice, 
for  he  had  quit  and  had  all  arrangements  complete  for 
going  home,  but  solely  on  the  ground — the  accusation  that 
he  persisted  in  allowing  the  public  to  see  he  was  a  doctor. 


174  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OP 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES— HIS  LECTURE. 

WITH  the  thirty  thousand  cheechokers  who  came  down 
the  Yukon  River  in  May  and  June  of  1898  came  Nella, 
the  ward  and  sweetheart  of  Dr.  Samuel  Sawbones.  She 
came  overflowing  with  good-will,  enthusiasm,  and  devo 
tion.  She  came  much  less  girlish  and  much  more  woman 
ish  than  he  had  left  her.  She  came  outfitted  fully  and 
favorably.  He  received  her  with  love  and  affection.  He 
served  her  fondly  and  proudly.  Patiently  he  bore  with 
her  changes,  her  frailties,  her  fancies.  He  did  not  en 
croach  upon  any  whims  she  had  contracted  in  her  enthu 
siasm  for  woman's  rights.  Yet  he  felt  keenly  the  dis 
tinction  of  her  seating  herself  opposite  him  rather  than 
by  his  side  as  of  old.  The  matter  of  being  talked  at  did 
not  seem  quite  like  having  her  sit  by  his  side  listening. 
Her  innovation  of  right  and  title  to  be  heard  as  well  as 
seen  did  not  especially  disturb  him,  as  he  was  fond  of 
companionship  next  to  love.  Her  innovations  upon  dress 
startled  him  a  bit,  not  from  its  distortions  nor  from  its 
unfitness  for  the  occasion,  for  the  hideous  combination  of 
Yukon  hood,  knee  skirt,  and  gum  boots  prevailing  on  our 
streets  could  not  be  rivaled  in  ugliness,  but  from  its  con 
tra  claims  to  health  and  utility.  She  had  abandoned  her 
corsets,  according  to  an  edict  from  the  ruling  set  of  her 
new  woman  club.  Now,  if  anything  is  a  flaunting  red 
flag  to  Samuel,  it  is  nonsensical  perversion  of  health  lines. 
He  has  ever  upheld  corsets  as  a  woman's  first  best  friend, 
and  had  even  written  an  essay  upon  its  merit.  He  be- 
seeched  her  good  graces  to  lend  ear  to  his  essay,  and  so 


SAMUEL  8AWBONES,  M.  D.  175 

unique,  so  unusual,  so  individual  are  the  arguments  favor 
ing  corsets  or  lacing  that  we  follow  with  his  discourse. 

THE  CORSET. 

Once  while  roaming  where  woman  doctors  scarce  ever 
tread  I  heard  one,  evidently  an  estray,  lecture,  ostensibly 
for  some  charitable  society,  in  reality  to  advertise  herself — 
a  manner  and  means  common  to  men  of  the  profession  as 
well.  True  to  her  nature  and  true  to  my  own  prophecy, 
her  eloquence  was  in  most  part  exhausted  upon  corsets 
and  high  heels. 

Of  course  her  arguments  were  as  threadbare  as  the 
shabbiest  corset  hidden  in  her  enthusiastic  audience,  yet 
the  applause  from  unmarried  men  and  very  much  mar 
ried  women  was  long  and  loud.  I  will  not  quote  her  ver 
batim,  for  every  argument  in  existence  against  corsets  has 
been  sung  so  often  by  every  woman  doctor  and  by  every 
old-womanish  doctor,  by  every  candidate  for  notoriety  in 
fashion  and  magazine,  by  every  chronic  female  reformer, 
the  Jenness  Miller  disciples  especially,  that  a  stereotyped 
copy  can  be  had  from  any  of  these  sources. 

Deformity  in  woman's  physical  being  from  the  use  of 
corsets  figures  as  its  chiefest  outrage.  Ill  shape  of  the 
body  is  painted  in  grewsome  colors.  The  departure  of  the 
beauty  lines  of  Venus  de  Medici  is  deplored,  bemoaned 
with  all  the  eloquence  of  the  art  critic.  And  yet — and 
yet  the  gaze  of  the  mass  of  men,  jurists,  divines,  artists 
too,  will  rivet  upon  the  athletic  grace  of  the  snugly  laced 
girl  of  to-day,  while  all  the  Venus  models  in  the  array  of 
present  prevailing  apparel  will  go  begging  for  recogni 
tion. 

The  perversion  of  beauty  disposed  of  and  resolutions 
of  condolence  for  the  sad  departed  duly  passed,  this  Sal- 


176  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

vation  Army  captain  camps  about  the  vital  organs — the 
liver,  lungs,  heart,  and  head.  She  begins  by  preaching  a 
funeral  sermon.  Strange,  for  the  "resurrectionist"  at 
the  university  used  to  furnish  us  with  subjects  without 
distinction  as  to  sex,  and  our  professor  of  anatomy  used  to 
demonstrate  his  subject,  as  to  size,  shape,  position,  from 
the  female  subject  as  he  would  from  the  male.  I  cannot 
recall  ever  having  seen  a  patient  embarrassed  by  a  crushed 
liver,  a  bruised  spleen,  a  mashed  heart.  I  have  yet  to 
witness  a  consultation  of  doctors  discussing  the  possibili 
ties  of  one  of  these  conditions  as  the  result  of  corsets. 
Then  the  advanced  freaks  in  this  army  against  our  little 
inquisitor  cheeked  in  the  resolution  that  woman's  beauty, 
health  and  comfort  depend  upon  the  extermination  of  the 
corset.  As  to  this  last — comfort — you  may  all  speak 
for  yourselves. 

Concluding  you  are  all  familiar  with  the  line  of  argu 
ments,  the  general  details,  against  corsets,  without  further 
rehearsal  I  will,  in  the  language  of  my  friends  of  the 
legal  fraternity,  proceed  with  rebuttal  testimony.  With 
your  indulgence  I  will  occupy  my  time  with  purely  scien 
tific  and  practical  facts. 

Woman  has  some  distinctive  anatomical  features,  just 
as  she  has  some  emotional  furores  and  freaks  peculiar  to 
herself.  The  top  of  her  chest  proportionately  is  very 
much  larger  than  that  of  a  man ;  the  bottom  measurement 
very  much  less.  Her  waist  line  is  very  much  less  than 
his,  if  man  has  anything  like  a  waist  line  at  all.  Her  hip 
measure  is  very  much  greater.  These  are  anatomical 
creations,  not  deformities.  And  will  any  one  reading  pre 
sume  to  suggest  that  these  distinctions  are  not  special  for 
her  existence,  that  they  are  embryonic,  which  nature 
thinks  need  not  be  corrected?  Then  we  must  call  up  the 
physiological  attendant  of  these  physical  differences. 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  177 

Compared  with  man,  woman's  top  chest  is  not  only  extra 
large,  but  extra  mobile  and  expansible;  her  lower  chest  is 
not  only  extra  small,  but  extra  immobile  or  fixed.  Again 
is  this  accident  or  does  it  mean  something?  These  are 
conditions  absolutely  necessary,  with  her  present  status 
in  civilization,  to  the  successful  accomplishments  of  wom 
anhood.  The  small  waist  line  is  necessary  to  serve  in 
part  as  a  partition  between  chest  organs  and  abdominal 
organs;  it  is  something  approaching  a  floor  for  the  vital 
organs.  Her  breathing  is  purely  chest  breathing  through 
the  given  features,  with  protection  to  her  reproductive 
organs.  And  the  compliment  is  returned  when  such 
organs  may  be  brought  to  make  inroads  upon  the  free 
breathing  and  the  easy  throbbing  of  the  heart  so  vital  to 
life  and  health.  It  is  impracticable  to  go  into  further 
details,  but  the  simplest  can  understand. 

Thus  nature  has  planned  woman,  but  left  to  her  own 
resources  she  fails  to  build  well.  The  woman  of  to-day 
has  backbone  figuratively  speaking,  yet  has  not  the  spine 
requisite  to  ease  her  through  all  the  trials  and  tribula 
tions  of  domestic  life  and  society  and  the  cares  and  ex 
haustions  of  business  and  literature  with  which  she  chooses 
to  burden  herself.  Old  Dr.  Sayere,  of  New  York,  has 
spent  a  life  in  making  artificial  plaster  of  Paris  spines 
for  womankind ;  the  masseur  is  becoming  a  daily  necessity 
for  developing  what  muscle  she  has  left  by  kneading  and 
rubbing;  electricity  must  be  applied  to  restore  energy  to 
it;  above  all,  the  dressmaker  must  lend  her  art  toward 
artificial  aid  and  supports.  This  last  is  the  simplest 
proposition  in  her  existence.  The  corset  is  the  chiefest 
of  her  aids,  the  most  bountiful  of  her  blessings. 

You  hear  geese  babble  about  interfering  with  nature 
and  corrupting  nature's  work,  and  the  nasty  false  teeth  of 
these  clatter  while  they  talk.  They  look  through  spec- 


178  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF* 

tacles  to  applaud  nature,  not  thinking  they  themselves  are 
trying  to  outwit  nature.  You  will  have  heard  all  sorts  of 
arguments,  scientific,  religious,  and  profane,  advanced 
against  poor  woman's  infringement  of  nature  in  this  par 
ticular.  One  fool  doctor  makes  an  attempt  at  a  physio 
logical  case  against  her  through  the  test  and  comparison 
of  an  Indian  woman — "a  pure,  untrammeled  specimen  of 
nature's  own  creation."  He  employed  a  civil  engineer  to 
make  diagrams  of  her,  giving  angles  and  curves,  rises  and 
falls,  proportions  and  relations;  and  I  am  not  sure  but 
that  they  massacred  her  for  the  post-mortem  notes,  so  accu 
rate  in  detail  was  he  and  so  positive  that  supreme  nature 
spurns  the  wear  and  tear  of  corsets.  Poor  delusion !  Why, 
the  Indian  woman  is  only  a  beast  of  burden.  She  does 
man's  work  and  in  consequence  she  has  much  of  man's 
make-up.  Her  chest  and  abdominal  walls  are  so  devel 
oped  that  one  could  cut  a  steak  out  of  them.  Her  cor 
sets  would  need  be  big  in  the  middle,  thereby  defeating 
any  good  hoped  for. 

All  sorts  of  damphool  arguments  are  thus  advanced. 
Then,  to  sum  up,  what  are  his  deductions?  Why,  that 
this  Indian  woman  is  the  model  for  procreating  the  spe 
cies  and  of  perfect  health.  Well,  he  is  a  great  liar  in  this. 
In  both  conclusions  he  is  wrong.  I  am  familiar  with  In 
dian  life,  and  without  offering  recorded  statistics  I  pre- 
rcnt  as  facts  taken  from  the  Eskimo  and  other  Indian 
tribes  along  the  Yukon  the  following :  These  Indians  are 
greater  victims  to  consumption  than  any  other  people  re 
corded,  and  they  are  less  procreative  than  any  other  I  know, 
it  being  unusual  for  any  family  to  have  more  than  two 
children. 

In  the  matter  of  consumption,  this  is  not  due  to  the 
climate,  for  the  whites  coming  up  here  are  notably  free 
from  coughs,  colds,  or  lung  troubles.  Then  what  does  he 


SAMUEL  SA  WBONES,  M.  D.  179 

prove?  Only  that  he  is  a  tea-pot  making  a  hissing  noise 
to  amuse  a  bevy  of  old  lady  tea-drinkers.  Nature,  no 
doubt,  provides  the  plan  for  the  development  of  Indians 
as  well  as  he  does  for  the  civilized  woman,  but  she  depends 
upon  the  arts  and  sciences  of  civilization  for  her  living 
and  she  must  build  according  to  the  demands  of  these. 
If  she  be  a  master  mason  she  will  build,  of  course,  after  the 
temple  fashion. 

The  lower  chest  wall  in  woman  is  almost  immobile ;  her 
breathing  expands  upward,  that  she  may  not  bear  down 
upon  the  reproductive  organs;  the  organs  of  either  com 
partment  of  the  body  infringing  upon  the  territory  of  the 
other  impair  its  vitality,  its  functions,  and  nature  even  is 
handicapped.  If  woman  were  created  for  her  own  amuse 
ment,  for  her  own  existence,  for  her  own  support,  then  she 
might  be  made  not  only  from  the  rib  of  man,  but  shaped 
likewise  after  him,  but  inasmuch  as  she  must  grow  and 
mold  the  race,  she  must  necessarily  be  patterned  to  make 
her  office  practicable.  She  needs  be  a  double  compartment, 
one  modeled  to  protect  her  own  life  and  insure  her  own 
comfort;  the  other  to  insure  the  life  and  growth  of  her 
ward. 

'Tis  too  funny  to  hear  the  arguments  of  the  crusade 
of  the  corset.  The  religious  crusade  of  the  Dark  Ages 
was  no  more  vigorous  nor  popular,  no  more  ridiculous. 
One  medical  man  who  claims  to  have  treated  3,000  women 
wrote  a  pamphlet  on  the  "Kelation  of  Dress  to  Pelvic  Dis 
eases."  He  invents  a  measuring  machine  by  which  he  can 
readily  obtain  results  to  corroborate  his  notions.  He 
measures  men,  Chinese  women,  Indian  women,  civilized 
women,  and  dogs.  'Tis  a  fact  in  his  figures  that  the  ab 
dominal  breathing  gives  a  one  like  tracing  for  men,  In 
dian  women,  Chinese  women,  and  dogs,  and  a  one  tracing 
for  civilized  woman.  Then  he  disputes  anatomists  ancl 


180  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

physiologists  who  teach  that  woman  naturally  breathes 
by  way  of  expanding  her  chest,  calling  it  costal  breathing, 
saying  it  is  perversion  of  nature.  He  quotes  the  girl  still 
breathing  by  expanding  the  stomach,  and  says  she  assumes 
the  modern  female  breathing  only  with  the  age  of  corsets. 
Fool!  Why  does  he  not  tell  us  the  girl  naturally  awk 
ward  with  big  hands  and  feet  is  made  of  angles  instead  of 
curves,  and  runs  and  climbs  and  uses  her  arms,  and  body, 
and  chest,  and  muscles  like  her  primitive  ancestors?  At 
womanhood  she  is  absolutely  a  different  creature  by  na 
ture.  Corsets  do  not  make  her  an  elegant  figure;  she 
dons  corsets  to  support  it,  to  retain  it.  And  after  all  his 
experiments  and  all  his  arguments  to  prove  that  the  prim 
itive  woman,  that  the  typical  woman,  the  model  woman 
of  even  to-day  naturally  assumes  abdominal  breathing  as 
does  the  Indian  woman,  man,  and  dog,  what  shall  he  have 
gained  ?  He  must  accept  the  observation  of  another  med 
ical  scientist,  greater  than  himself,  which  concludes  that 
woman  is  much  less  susceptible  to  consumption  than  is 
man  because  of  her  costal  or  top  chest  breathing.  Any 
one  may  know  that  the  extreme  top  of  one's  lung,  the 
apex,  is  cooped  up  in  a  bony  hive  with  little  or  no  elbow 
room;  the  consequence  is  an  extremely  limited  expansion. 
Right  here  in  this  quarter  do  we  always  look  for  the  first 
footprint  of  consumption.  Then  when  you  dissect  poor 
man's  shoulder  that  is  bound  down  by  all  possible  strength 
in  muscles  and  tendons,  tissues  of  various  kinds  which, 
knitted  together,  give  him  the  great  strength  he  needs  in 
his  being  man,  you  will  find  the  whole  upper  lobe  of  the 
lung  much  tied  down,  much  cooped  up  and  compressed  in 
its  function.  Therefore  the  disease,  germinating  in  the 
apex,  has  a  fair  open  field  for  extension.  And  thus  poor 
man  is  much  the  more  frequent  victim  to  the  monster. 
Beauty  runs  too  close  a  race  with  intelligence  in  the 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  181 

affections  of  men  to  allow  of  its  neglect.  Especially  the 
man  of  intellectual  pursuits  at  the  end  of  his  day's  doings 
finds  himself  mentally  exhausted  and  seeks  most  for  rec 
reation  in  beauty;  and  he  tends  much  to  marry  beauty. 
We  must  all  see  more  beauty  in  the  corset  form  than  in 
the  beer-keg  form,  in  our  modern  women  than  in  the  In 
dian  physique.  Beauty  is  the  subject  of  all  song,  while 
mind  is  in  favor  with  all  crank  essays.  I  doubt  if  there  is 
a  knight  of  this  age  who  would  have  women  patterned 
after  man  or  dog,  one  but  who  would  throw  down  his 
armor  and  her  cause  in  the  event  of  such  transition. 

Grant  that  we  have  proven  that  the  cry  of  deformity  is 
a  fancy  of  the  imagination;  that  distorted  and  hampered 
internal  organs  are  a  myth;  that  the  costal  breathing  of 
our  civilized  woman  is  immunity  from  certain  diseases; 
that  upon  theoretical  and  practical  grounds  the  woman  of 
to-day  secures  through  her  artificial  supports  and  pro 
tections  necessities  and  advantages  in  functions  of  des 
tiny;  let  us  listen  for  further  proofs  from  her  own  per 
sonal  experiences.  Does  she  complain  that  her  liver  is 
cramped  into  a  jelly,  or  her  heart  is  crowded  up  into  her 
mouth,  or  her  breath  is  cut  short  off,  or  that  her  dinner 
spoils  for  want  of  eating?  What  are  her  agonies?  Her 
digestion  averages  quite  as  good  as  does  her  male  friends; 
her  capacity  and  endurance  on  the  ice  pond  and  dancing 
floors  wear  out  her  escort;  her  laugh  in  the  sleighing 
party  is  as  loud  and  ringing  as  the  youth  who  may  be 
adding  pounds  to  the  pressure  of  her  corset-strings;  and 
after  the  ball  she  can  eat  as  much  oyster  soup  or  ice  cream 
as  the  biggest  man.  What  is  the  rule  as  to  the  wear  of 
corsets?  Why,  the  great  bulk  of  voice  cries:  "*Tis  most 
comfortable,  most  necessary!"  Its  good  points  would 
make  a  long  essay.  It  buoys  up  the  breasts  of  woman 
and  saves  her  from  drag  and  stoop ;  it  strengthens  her  back 


182  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

and  supports  it  in  exertion;  it  carries  much  of  the  weight 
of  the  chest  upon  the  hips,  built  broad  and  strong,  thus 
shielding  that  little  chain  of  bones,  the  spinal  column,  and 
insures  it  against  disease  and  deformity.  Ah,  yes.  I  rep 
resent  the  great  majority  when  I  say  the  corset  is  a 
glorious  luxury.  I  say  it,  too,  as  a  matter  of  fact  deter 
mined  from  observation. 

Now,  can  there  be  a  fool  to  think  if  woman  were  barred 
the  use  of  corsets  she  would  assume  the  good  stout  waist 
pictured  to  us  as  health  and  beauty,  with  abdominal 
breathing  substituted  for  costal,  and  that  she  would  pro 
create  as  free  and  as  easy  as  the  wild  woman  of  the  forest  ? 

It  is  a  simple  notion  that  the  present  type  of  waist  is 
the  result  of  lacing.  It  is  indisputably  the  growth,  the 
march  of  civilization — it  is  in  the  chain  of  evolution.  My 
good  medical  authority  talks  like  a  duck  at  the  conclusion 
of  this  elaborate  essay,  thus :  "I  wish  to  express  the  belief 
that  if  civilized  women  would  adopt  some  of  the  active 
physical  habits  of  the  savage  women  and  would  dress  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  secure  themselves  the  same  freedom 
of  muscular  movement  in  every  part  of  their  bodies,  they 
would  be  as  free  from  pelvic  diseases  as  are  the  hardy 
women  of  the  forests  who  compete  successfully  with  their 
brothers  in  the  fierce  struggles  for  existence."  Some  of 
us  respond :  "A  thing  devoutly  to  be  wished  for !"  Many 
of  us  might  enjoy  having  woman  take  her  place  of  a  few 
centuries  back,  or  that  of  the  primitive  Indian,  and  keep 
the  tepee  raised  over  our  heads,  gather  in  the  fuel  and 
keep  the  larder  stored,  look  after  the  beasts — our  war 
horses — while  we  only  sang  of  the  chase  and  danced  before 
the  council  fire.  Yet  the  great  mass  would  prefer  woman 
as  she  is  and  toil  for  her  that  she  may  retain  her  superior 
beauty,  keep  a  house  over  her  head  that  she  might  not 
fade,  feed  her  on  the  good  things  of  the  land  that  she 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D<  183 

may  be  good-natured,  groom  her  a  horse  for  exercise  and 
exhibition,  bear  all  the  buffs  and  rebuffs  of  existence  to 
save  her  from  degenerating,  as  our  author  would  have,  to 
the  big-bellied,  bowlegged  squaw. 

We  again  refer  to  deformities.  Almost  the  total  force 
of  corset-wearing  women  will  have  an  exact  symmetrical 
measurement,  will  measure  alike  in  proportion,  and  their 
anatomy  will  conform  to  the  teaching  of  our  medical  pro 
fessors.  Granted  that  a  woman  laces  too  tight;  what  are 
the  consequences?  Suppose  a  surgeon  treating  a  fracture 
removes  his  dressings  at  night  only,  to  keep  the  limb  under 
control  during  the  day ;  would  that  leg  or  arm  conform  to 
his  daily  splints  ?  Not  any  more  will  the  compressed  waist 
conform  to  the  tight  corset.  The  woman  may  wear  tight 
lacing  all  of  every  day,  yet  night  will  settle  every  rib  in 
its  right  place.  The 'worst  that  can  occur  is  a  given 
amount  of  discomfort  and  some  functional  disturbances 
in  breathing  and  digestion. 

However,  our  arguments  come  from  the  standpoint  of 
the  simple  every-day  fitting  corset.  We  ask  corsets  to  be 
fitted  something  after  the  manner  of  your  shoes.  Some 
idiots  will  wear  shoes  so  tight  that  they  agonize;  others 
wear  them  so  loose  that  their  slipshod  move  rubs  the  feet 
full  of  corns.  Do  we  condemn  shoes?  Most  people  find 
most  comfort  in  wearing  their  shoes  snug — almost  tight 
to  their  feet.  Some  women  there  are  who  do  wear  their 
corsets  too  tight,  yet  I  have  never  seen  a  deformity  re 
sulting,  nor  a  disease  established,  nor  a  life  shortened. 
Ah,  yes,  we  hear  of  them  all  around  us,  but  we  never  see 
them.  Some  women  wear  their  corsets  too  loose  or  too  ill- 
fitting;  in  consequence  they  punish  their  ribs  and  stom 
achs  and  hides  and  spines  more  by  the  irregular  pressure 
and  motion  than  results  from  tight  squeezing.  These 
continually  say  oh,  my!  and  seek  their  homes  that  they 


184  TEE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

may  get  out  of  them;  but  the  good,  sensible  majority  of 
women  wear  snug  corsets  tight  enough  to  keep  their  ribs 
comparatively  immovable  at  the  lower  border,  and  their 
stomachs  steadied  and  their  waist  lines  well  guarded,  their 
chests  supported  more  or  less  upon  their  hips,  their  spines 
straightened  and  strengthened,  their  abdominal  muscles 
held  taut;  then  they  will  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry  with 
out  having  to  seek  comfort  by  relaxation  of  a  cigar,  by 
soda  and  brandy  as  a  stomachic,  or  by  opening  a  lower 
vest  button  to  be  able  to  sing. 

In  the  matter  of  diseases  following  in  the  wake  of  cor 
sets  I  cannot  enlighten  you.  The  anti-corset  crank  would 
have  us  say  there  are  myriads,  all  most  deadly.  What 
and  where  they  are  I  cannot  conceive.  I  think  a  nice- 
looking  liver  pad  stuffed  with  sawdust  or  an  electric  belt 
made  of  shoddy  and  copper  wire,  for  which  you  would  be 
made  pay  $10,  would  cure  all  the  diseases.  When  a  man 
chooses  to  take  a  good  dose  of  exercise,  either  walking  or 
horseback,  he  is  constrained  to  gird  up  his  loins  with  a 
rope  or  belt,  not  blessed  with  a  corset.  Is  it  fancy  or 
fashion  and  the  outgrowth  of  necessity  from  experience? 
Do  not  refer  us  back  to  Mr.  Lo,  whose  untutored  mind 
is  not  ready  to  grasp  little  luxuries,  who  rides  without  belt 
because  his  stomach  is  so  much  larger  than  his  head  that 
the  belt  would  continually  annoy  him  by  slipping  off. 

Yes,  numerous  women  are  tortured  by  corsets.  Many 
men  and  women  are  tortured  by  shoes.  Let  them  off. 
The  corset  needs  be  used  as  a  prophylactic  medicine  rather 
than  a  curative  agent.  Some  women  will  not  bear  the  force 
of  a  corset-string  nor  the  unnatural  pressure  of  a  full 
breath.  Some  cannot  be  fitted  as  is  necessary  to  insure 
them  aid  and  comfort.  The  sick  woman  must  be  disrobed 
and  prescribed  for;  she  who  is  ailing  must  be  protected 
and  aided  by  special  appliances  and  means  suggested  by 


SAMUEL  SA  WBONES,  M.  D.  185 

her  special  case.  She  must  not  wear  corsets  nor  lace  her 
gowns.  It  is  from  the  sick  and  afflicted  whom  harpers  and 
doctors  and  cranks  get  their  data.  A  sick  woman  con 
demns  a  corset;  a  sick  man  discards  his  best  friend,  cigar. 
It  is  from  the  disease  that  the  irrational  talk  emanates 
which  would  prove  a  woman  after  nature  is  only  so  by 
her  exclusion  of  the  corset. 

My  medical  authority  of  the  pamphlet  says:  In  Ger 
many  the  peasant  woman  toils  beside  her  husband;  in 
France  I  saw  women  digging  ditches  with  men;  in  Italy 
the  cow  pulls  an  equal  burden  with  the  ox.  No  corsets 
on  any  of  these.  As  before  related,  tubercular  disease 
of  the  lung  has  almost  a  universal  starting-point  in  the 
apex — in  the  top  of  the  lung.  Why?  Because  of  its  less 
development,  its  less  activity.  Man  in  his  original  state 
used  his  all  fours — ran,  climbed,  played,  worked,  clubbed 
his  wife,  carried  his  children.  It  was  not  conducive  to 
his  existence,  his  happiness,  if  you  choose,  that  his  shoul 
der  joints  and  their  muscular  ligamentous  union  and 
support  should  be  embarrassed  by  a  heaving,  expanding, 
movable  chest.  Consequently  the  base  of  his  lungs  were 
made  large  and  expansible,  his  lower  chest  and  belly  flex 
ible.  In  his  descent  (I  believe  that  is  the  way  scientists 
put  it)  he  retains  these  characteristics  as  he  retains  his 
primitive  avocations  and  uses  for  the  same  arms.  As  lord 
of  creation  of  to-day  he  preserves  his  mastery  by  the 
mighty  right  arm  and  subsists  chiefly  by  it;  and  it  is 
necessary  that  his  upper  chest  still  remains  limited  in 
action,  that  extremities  lose  not  their  cunning.  Until 
machinery  is  invented  to  relieve  man  of  all  physical  labor 
he  ever  will  be  built  solid,  compact,  with  limited  upper 
chest  movement;  he  ever  will  be  held  responsible  for  more 
frequent  consumption.  Woman,  whom  civilization  has 
emancipated  from  building  the  romantic  tepee  and  from 


186  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

digging  ditches,  and  who  is  forgetting  bread-making  and 
gardening,  can  afford  to  throw  off  the  shackles  of  con 
sumption.  She  can  grow,  as  security  against  it,  a  large, 
expansive  bust,  one  interesting  as  well  as  healthy.  All 
of  what  I  say  must  not  be  considered  simply  amusing,  for 
every-day  life  illustrates  me.  What  is  the  command  to 
the  raw  recruit  of  war,  his  first  drill?  "Chest  forward." 
What  is  the  order  of  the  gymnast?  "Throw  out  your 
chest."  And  the  mother  to  the  kid  and  tomboy  ?  "Shoul 
ders  back."  And  the  doctor's  warning?  "Expand  that 
chest."  And  when  he  measures  you  for  a  health  certifi 
cate  he  measures  where — around  your  belly  ?  Around  the 
top  of  your  thorax,  of  course.  He  carefully  notes  the 
inches  and  half  inches  and  quarters  and  takes  never  a 
glimpse  of  regions  below. 

Men  who  do  not  do  work  with  their  arms  and  shoulders 
throw  back  their  shoulders  both  as  a  matter  of  health  and 
beauty.  Woman — sometimes  she  does  not  brace  up  and 
present  a  bold  front,  yet  the  law  of  expansion  is  unflinch 
ing  and  the  twenty  or  thirty  cubic  inches  of  fresh  air  re 
quires  her  to  make  room  for  it.  Pressure  down  upon  the 
pelvic  organs  cannot  be  according  to  her  taste,  certainly  is 
not  according  to  her  need.  The  Great  Architect  has 
planned  her  upon  a  fine  principle,  and  she  necessarily  is 
kind  to  herself  and  encourages  it.  She  stays  her  abdo 
men  and  lower  ribs  and  encourages  the  lungs  to  adopt  the 
expansion  of  the  upper  chamber.  The  chest  takes  kindly 
to  this,  the  natural,  healthy  way,  and  needs  no  forcing,  no 
coaxing;  resulting  is  immunity  from  consumption,  de 
velopment  of  form  and  emotions  and  their  attendants. 

But  the  dear  good  medical  harpers  on  this  subject  must 
needs  be  administered  to  scientifically  to  put  them  retreat 
ing,  must  not  be  fooled  by  any  simple  talk.  Well,  one 
pf  the  latest  anatomists,  certainly  one  of  the  very  best, 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  187 

illustrates  the  build  and  the  action  of  the  thorax  in  the 
following  expression:  "Since  the  first  six  ribs  present 
convex  lower  borders,  give  origin  to  the  pectoralis  major 
muscle  (an  elevator  of  the  ribs),  and  move  upward  in  in 
spiration,  and  since  the  last  six  ribs  present  concave  lower 
borders,  give  origin  to  the  diaphragm  (a  depressor  of  the 
ribs),  and  move  downward  in  inspiration,  no  objection 
can  be  urged  to  the  use  of  the  term  upper  ribs  to  desig 
nate  the  former  group  or  the  use  of  lower  ribs  to  designate 
the  latter."  If  you  understand  that  the  ribs  circle  around 
outward  and  downward  from  their  attachments,  you  will 
comprehend  that  any  movement  given  them  will  be  out 
ward  and  upward  or  else  downward  and  inward.  Then 
the  six  upper  ribs  move  out  and  up.  This  involves  the 
chest  to  several  inches  below  the  nipples.  Those  below — 
the  lower  ribs — are  controlled  by  the  diaphragm. 

Dalton's  "Physiology"  says  of  the  diaphragm:  "When 
muscular  fibers  contract,  as  in  inspiration,  they  draw  the 
central  tendon  downward,  depressing  the  abdominal  organs 
and  enlarging  the  cavity  of  the  chest  in  a  vertical  direc 
tion."  At  the  same  time  it  would  seemingly  draw  the 
lower  ribs  down  and  in,  and  only  that  their  attachments 
are  not  firm  this  would  be  the  case ;  but  the  conformation 
is  such  that  they  cannot  be  expanded.  This  is  shown  by 
actual  measurement  to  be  the  fact.  A  woman  expands 
at  the  waist  line  during  natural  respirations  simply  one- 
eighth  inch  in  circumference;  at  forced  inspirations,  pos 
sibly  through  help  of  her  abdominal  muscles,  one  inch. 
The  same  woman  has  a  top-chest  expansion  of  three  to  five 
inches.  You  will  agree  that  it  must  take  very  tight  lacing 
indeed  to  embarrass  that  one-eighth  inch  about  the  waist. 
Aside  from  the  law  that  it  is  the  higher  development,  a 
simple  conformity  to  nature  ought  to  compel  us  to  rely 
upon  the  upper-chest  breathing  in  order  that  we  may  pro- 


188  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OP 

tect  the  abdominal  organs  from  the  "vertical  direction"  of 
the  lungs.  In  face  of  this  scientific  arraignment  of  the 
breathing  there  is  a  presumed  school  of  teachers  instilling 
what  they  call  a  new  theory — abdominal  breathing — into 
their  class.  I  admit  they  do  no  harm,  for  at  most  they  can 
only  to  a  limited  extent  control  their  abdominal  muscles, 
and  from  this  scarcely  any,  if  at  all,  effect  any  increase 
in  the  lower  lungs,  as  you  may  learn  by  actual  measure 
ment,  while  the  exertion  they  use  in  this  is  fortunately  ex 
hausted  to  good  effect  upon  the  upper  lungs.  Could  they 
effect  what  they  presume,  then  they  would  be  most  dan 
gerous  to  their  class.  Such  of  you  who  know  something 
of  anatomy  will  recall  the  shape  and  position  of  the  lungs ; 
the  upper  lobes  not  alone  overtop  the  lower,  but  overhang 
them,  and  to  prevent  embarrassment  must  be  actually 
lifted  up  and  off  during  their  inflation.  Probably  I  can 
not  more  easily  cap  the  climax  against  all  damphool  argu 
ments  that  corsets  are  destruction  and  damnation  to  poor 
woman  than  by  presenting  the  following  medical  fact: 
Men,  women,  and  children  with  weak  backs,  diseased  bones, 
imperfect  muscles,  and  paralysis  are  subjected  to,  as  the 
best  treatment  of  the  day,  the  wearing  of  a  plaster  jacket. 
Do  you  know  what  this  is?  One  is  suspended,  hanged  by 
the  shoulders;  then  he  is  bandaged  with  plaster  of  Paris 
bandages,  wrapped  snug  and  taut  from  under  the  arms  to 
the  hip,  allowance  only  being  made  by  a  napkin,  after 
ward  removed,  gver  the  stomach.  This  plaster  bandage 
is  applied  a  full  inch  in  thickness,  and  when  dried  you 
may  be  assured  does  not  expand.  This,  you  can  also  be 
assured,  could  not  be  laced  any  tighter  by  hitching  to  a 
bedpost  or  by  the  assistance  of  one's  room-mate.  And  yet 
— and  yet  these  poor  miserable  sufferers  give  up  their  aches 
and  pains,  live  comfortable,  accumulate  fat,  become  strong, 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.D.  189 

and  grow  well,  hooped  and  riven  by  a  dozen  corsets  in 
one. 

When  a  woman  appears  who  is  not  a  fit  subject  for  a 
corset — in  other  terms,  one  who  cannot  wear  one  because 
of  its  discomfort — no  time  should  be  lost  in  calling  for  a 
doctor  for  her.  Certainly  something  is  wrong;  if  not  a 
serious  lesion  of  some  vital  organ,  then  at  least  some  func 
tional  disturbance  or  fit  of  indigestion.  I  am  not  caring 
to  cast  a  sigh  of  disrespect  or  a  slur  of  contempt  upon 
the  band  of  women  who  do  not  wear  corsets,  but  in  good 
faith  many  of  them  are  not  physically  sound,  a  few  are 
not  mentally  sound ;  most,  perhaps,  have  accustomed  them 
selves  to  loose  gowns,  and  when  once  initiated  into  fatigue 
dress  of  any  and  all  sorts,  gowns,  sliprpers,  caps,  etc.,  we 
grow  to  fancy  it. 

There  are  many  natural  positions  for  the  human  body — 
one  for  every  phase  of  the  mind  as  well  as  for  every  degree 
of  physical  stimulation.  The  old  soldier  on  dress  parade 
is  a  beauty  (especially  the  officer) ;  on  his  approach  to 
battle  he  is  a  creature  without  prominent  physical  attri 
butes,  only  expression;  after  the  conflict  he  is  little  more 
than  an  inanimate  object,  appellated  human  being.  With 
any  of  us  when  tired  from  the  fatigues  of  the  day  the  ten 
dency  is  to  be  much  out  of  joint — to  stoop,  to  droop,  to 
curtail  the  breathing — and  the  consequences?  Some  of 
us  grow  stooped,  some  crooked,  some  weak  of  lungs.  Some 
by  occupation,  some  by  physique,  maintain  themselves  in 
order.  The  vast  majority  keep  themselves  in  proper  form 
through  the  assistance  of  their  clothes  more  than  from  per 
sonal  direction.  The  man's  tailor-made  coat  keeps  his 
shoulders  back,  his  vest-buckle  curves  his  spine,  his  tight- 
fitting  boot  preserves  the  arch  and  promotes  the  elasticity 
of  his  foot ;  the  woman's  corset  gives  her  backbone  in  every 
eense  of  the  word. 


190  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

Savage  races  are  often  pictured  to  us  as  types  of  fine 
physical  formation.  Yes,  the  males  are  often  such,  be 
cause  the  males  live  a  life  of  dress  parade.  They  do  none 
of  the  severe  toil,  the  muscular  strain,  and  mental  ex 
haustion  that  is  the  life  of  our  enlightened  land;  but 
look  at  their  women !  We  call  them  hags,  so  haggard  and 
worn  do  they  look;  they  stoop,  they  lounge,  they  waddle, 
they  work  and  tire,  and  for  want  of  support  in  dress  as 
much  as  for  any  other  cause  they  outrage  nature.  There 
is  a  lesson  here.  We  need  artificial  support  in  all  active 
life.  When  down  in  spirit  it  must  be  stimuli  or  rest; 
when  relaxed  from  exhaustion  it  must  be  stays  or  rest. 
Civilized  man  has  quite  unconsciously  fallen  into  the 
groove  worn  by  this  law.  He  has  abandoned  the  tunic 
and  the  turban  of  the  ancients  for  his  modern  dress.  Why  ? 
Not  because  of  its  fancy.  The  older  is  the  more  pictur 
esque.  Because  he  needs  a  tight  coat  to  support  his 
thorax,  a  vest-buckle  to  yank  in  his  vertebra?,  a  snug- 
seated  pair  of  trousers  to  bale  up  his  flabby  flitches;  and 
if  he  abandons  the  tight-legged  breeches  he  returns  in 
variably  in  a  few  years  to  their  kind  office.  Woman  with 
her  great  legs  and  mammoth  hips  does  not  need  breeches. 
It  is  quite  enough  that  she  has  corsets  as  a  platform  upon 
which  to  load  all  her  upper  self,  with  the  burdens  her 
life  imposes,  and  thus  to  rest  them  upon  her  hips.  Only 
from  her  hips  up  is  she  the  weaker  vessel.  Make  woman 
clearly  a  thing  of  beauty — of  beauty  in  all  its  phases;  of 
intellect,  that  her  offspring  may  be  brainy;  in  morals  and 
virtues,  that  the  same  offspring  may  be  lofty  and  wise; 
of  physical  being,  as  we  do  our  blooded  rare  stock,  that 
they  may  be  lithe,  high-stepping,  swift.  The  aborigine, 
that  his  bow  should  be  elastic,  quick,  powerful,  curved  to 
its  limit  the  crude  willow  at  given  points.  Such  thin, 
slender  places  must  be  to  insure  results.  Woman  needs 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  191 

the  S3  me  curving,  molding,  flexions,  or  else  she  will  be 
clumsy,  useless,  like  the  crude  limb  of  the  willow.  She 
must  turn,  twist,  bend  without  effort,  without  agony. 
Gradually  molding  her  thus  will  finally.,  as  with  all  na 
ture,  find  it  bred  in  her.  *Tis  a  great  mistake  to  imagine 
the  woman  with  large  waist  and  prominent  abdomen  en 
joying  a  free  play  of  internal  organs  and  a  comfortable, 
untrammeled  display  of  vitality.  Usually  this  measure 
ment  is  due  largely  to  fat.  And  the  purpose  of  this  fat? 
I  will  tell  you :  Fat  in  one's  body  is  stored  food.  I  need 
not  tell  you  that  when  we  are  not  daily  supplying  the  wear 
and  tear  of  our  economy  by  direct  food  it  is  drawing  upon 
this  fat  for  subsistence.  Women  who  grow  large  around 
the  body  are  simply  building  a  warehouse  on  the  wrong 
location.  All  this  fat  will  add  to  beauty  and  utility  if 
stored  upon  the  limbs — if  stored  anywhere  else  than  in 
the  place  in  question.  If  women  gave  to  themselves  a 
tithe  of  the  attention  stockmen  bestow  upon  their  animals, 
they  would  soon  people  the  world  with  beings  whom  the 
goddesses  of  old  would  envy. 

A  great  change  must  necessarily  grow,  is  growing,  ever 
has  been  growing  over  the  relative  position  of  women. 
Time  with  civilization  demonstrated  she  could  not  be  held 
the  slave  of  man — his  drudge.  It  is  illustrating  she  can 
not  be  the  co-worker,  the  common  associate  with  man. 
Many  tragical  and  devastating  events  in  history  are  writ 
ten  to  prove  that  her  aspirations  in  political  favor  always 
have  been  and  ever  will  be  gross,  absurd  failures. 


193  TSS  DECLINE  AND  PALL  OF 


THE  FALL  OF  SAMUEL  SAWBONES, 
ESQ.,  M.D. 

SKOOKUM  JIM  was  a  nobleman  in  the  deference  of  the 
camp.  At  the  head  of  his  pack  train  of  twelve  husky 
men,  each  with  forty  pounds  of  dust  on  his  back,  march 
ing  into  Dawson  from  his  diggings,  Skookum  Jim  looked 
every  inch  a  man.  In  the  dance  hall,  in  a  social  bout  "at 
the  bar,  round  about  the  games,  he  was  the  noblest  Koman 
of  them  all.  Skookum  Jim  and  his  twelve  trusty  trainmen 
duplicated  the  trip  once  or  several  times  this  season's 
clean-up,  and  it  left  him  a  handsome  "poke"  to  take  out 
side.  I  am  not  informed  as  to  whether  he  was  born  of 
romantic  antecedents  or  whether  his  romance  was  born  of 
his  gold,  but  he  had  in  his  heart  and  his  mind  that  gold 
and  beauty  go  hand  in  hand.  He  therefore  beautified 
himself  so  far  as  physical  culture  could  attain,  and  began 
to  look  about  for  a  helpmate,  a  partner  in  his  gold.  Dr. 
Sawbones  was  not  a  selfish  man,  even  though  he  may  have 
been  a  little  jealous,  and  he  introduced  him  to  his  fiancee. 
This  girl  took  his  fancy,  filled  the  bill,  and  he  took  to 
wooing  her,  not  as  a  breach  of  confidence,  for  nothing 
was  in  confidence,  but  upon  the  good  sound  principle 
that  she  was  a  girl  to  do  him  honor,  and  in  the  sense 
that  enjoying  the  admiration  and  confidence  of  one 
so  worthy  as  Dr.  Sawbones,  she  must  necessarily  be 
noble  and  wise.  I  will  not  illustrate  his  manner 
and  means  of  wooing,  for  the  ways  on  the  Klondike 
differ  little  from  outside,  and,  moreover,  I  will  make  a 


Ill 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  193 

long  story  short.  I  will  abbreviate  the  anguish  of  Sam 
uel  Sawbones;  I  will  spare  you  the  woe  of  details  in  the 
shock  and  terror  to  him.  And  I  can  scarcely  justify  the 
girl  through  her  own  arguments  and  excuses,  and  care 
not  to  invent  any  of  my  own  to  justify  the  dear,  good  girl 
of  a  once  happy  time  in  the  new  departure.  Almost  with 
the  deliberation  and  technicality  of  a  law  judge's  opinion 
she  sentenced  poor  Samuel  Sawbones,  Esq.,  M.D.,  to  a  fall 
neither  knew  whither.  Samuel's  faults — his  financial  fail 
ures,  his  crank  philosophy,  his  hostility  to  female  "re 
forms" — were  charitably  veiled,  but  the  idols  of  wealth, 
her  worship  of  the  Golden  Calf  were  sharing  her  religion. 
They  had  grown  sentiment  and  principle  with  her.  She 
could  not  and  would  not  sacrifice  these,  therefore  accepts 
the  decrees  of  the  ruling  god.  She  accepted  the  offer  of 
Skookum  Jim  to  share  his  diggings,  though  not  without 
pangs  of  remorse  and  love.  She  still  had  her  love,  such 
as  she  was  capable  of  mustering,  for  Samuel  Sawbones, 
and  only  for  him.  It  was  in  the  book  of  her  new  philos 
ophy  to  sacrifice  all  else  to  fame,  and  gold  is  the  only 
door  of  poor  woman,  save  few  examples,  to  fame  as  she 
reads  and  reckons  fame. 

Hereafter  Dr.  Sawbones  is  seen  almost  daily  on  the 
trail  to  and  fro  reaching  the  Indian  mission  at  Moose- 
hide,  a  few  miles  below  Dawson.  Then  it  was  discovered 
that  he  was  hobnobbing  with  the  braves  and  entering  into 
their  powwows  with  more  or  less  enthusiasm,  and  we  took 
upon  ourselves  the  kind  office  of  looking  into  the  proceed 
ings  and  if  necessary  lending  a  guardian's  influence.  We 
were  nonplussed  in  our  own  schemes,  for  here  we  found 
Samuel  in  good  faith  and  with  all  earnestness  transplant 
ing  himself  in  this  tribe  of  natives.  Nor  could  we  remon 
strate  with  any  degree  of  success. 

"Oh,  no/'  said  Samuel.     "I  am  not  going  to  quite  amal- 


194  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

gamate  with  these  hardy  children  of  an  untrammeled  bar 
barism.  I  want  to  became  not  part  and  parcel  of  them, 
but  one  of  them,  that  I  may  learn  to  live  their  ways  and 
to  endure  their  existence.  You  must  surely  realize  that  I 
am  done  for  in  the  so-called  civilized  world — that  my 
field  of  fortune  is  cut  down  to  the  standard  two  by  six 
feet.  Yet  you  know  a  man  with  a  mite  of  soul  can  never 
say  surrender.  And  you  know  how  many  good,  brave, 
but  morbidly  ambitious  men  cross  over  in  a  vain  attempt 
to  discover  the  north  pole.  My  present  object — not  ambi 
tious,  mind — is  to  inaugurate  an  expedition  from  this 
tribe  of  native  Alaskans  to  locate,  stake,  and  record  the 
north  pole;  not  that  the  world  will  be  wise  and  I  will  be 
great — and  happy  like  Skookum  Jim — but  that  will  end 
the  destructive  crusade  of  this  century's  visionaries.  My 
plan  in  brief  is  this :  One  or  several  seasons  among  them 
will  make  me  to  every  sense  and  purpose  a  good  Indian. 
With  a  branch  of  the  tribe  I  will  migrate  northward 
slowly,  not  in  the  manner  of  travel,  of  hunting,  or  of  the 
pursuit  of  an  object,  but  simply  on  the  plan  that  the  star 
of  empire  may  spread  northward  just  as  it  did  westward. 
We  probably  this  season  may  pass  over  on  the  McKenzie 
River  and  make  that  home.  Finally,  with  all  the  bear 
ings  and  all  the  conditions,  we  make  another  stage.  But 
you  understand  and  you  also  can  comprehend  that  it  is 
feasible." 

"Yes,  yes.  We  can  understand.  It  may  be  feasible, 
too,  but  'tis  fearfully  foolish.  You  seem  to  have  lost  your 
grip,  doctor,  and  all  because  of  one  woman.  Simply  be 
cause  one  angelic  creature — painted  by  yourself,  of  course, 
as  are  all  angels  only  seen  or  known  in  paintings — has 
chosen  through  her  cultivated  depravity  the  world  and  the 
flesh  and  the  devil,  you  would  unclothe  yourself  of  all 
humanity  and  succumb  not  to  her  depraved  will,  but  to 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D.  195 

your  own  wailing.  You  know  in  your  own  heart  that  you 
will  never  reach  the  north  pole;  that  you  only  will  go  by 
easy  stages  on  up  to  the  great  ice  country,  there  to  be 
buried  out  of  sight,  out  of  mind  of  old  disappointments. 
Turn  about  and  go  home  with  me,  where  you  will  once 
again  occupy  the  position  of  trust  and  profits  of  yore." 

"Oh,  no.  ?Tis  too  late.  I  am  ever  too  slow  to  keep 
pace  with  the  rise  and  progress  of  the  century.  I  have 
noticed  religion  go — I  might  say  down  and  out  of  my  early 
catechism,  and  there  appears  nothing  to  hold  fast  to,  or 
rather  I  must  let  go  all  the  old  buoys.  Society  has  made 
such  strides  since  my  birth  that  either  I  or  it  goes  on 
straight  to  the  devil  as  per  last  scenes  of  my  biography. 
Inventions  are  so  prolific,  ingenious,  that  maybe  they  will 
yet  beat  me  and  the  natives  to  the  north  pole,  and  I  must 
therewith  step  down  and  out  with  good  grace,  as  you  see 
me  doing.  Moreover,  associations  would  be  much  less 
pleasant  than  of  days  past,  for  know  ye,  people  of  to-day 
want  their  pills  and  pukes  with  the  same  relish  they  want 
their  religion,  society,  and  their  honors — sugar-coated. 
More  than  that,  they  want  them  as  service  and  without 
scruples  or  compunctions  of  conscience.  It  is  not  a  crime 
to-day — it  is  not  a  breach  of  ignorance  or  decency  to  re 
quest  the  services  of  Dr.  A.  for  a  season,  then  deliberately 
and  without  an  item  of  excuse  or  reason  employ  Dr.  B. ; 
change  doctor  for  fancy  just  as  they  change  the  flavor  of 
their  meals.  I  may  be  censured  for  the  remark  that  one 
cannot  nowadays  practice  medicine  decently  and  in  order. 
The  laity  has  allowed  itself  license  to  treat  the  learned 
profession  of  medicine  as  hired  menials,  and  so  many  of 
the  profession  accept  the  fawning  of  presumptuous  great 
people  that  I  repeat  'tis  useless  to  try  to  succeed  in  medi 
cine  and  respect  one's  self  at  the  same  time.  In  instances 
I  have  been  installed  family  physician  ten,  twenty  years. 


196  THE  DECLINE  AND  FALL  OF 

then  awakened  of  a  morning  to  find  myself  supplanted,  not 
through  any  infirmity  that  was  accorded  me,  but  through 
fancy  for  change  or  fashion,  and  this  by  people  who  claim 
for  themselves  intelligence,  gentility,  even  decency,  just 
in  the  manner  they  would  ride  their  faithful  old  hack  until 
a  frisky  high-stepper  comes  along,  then  change  the  sad 
dle.  And  old  associations  haunt  me  still.  I  am  dis 
turbed  in  my  dreams  by  phantom  wheels  of  the  swift  out 
fit  of  Dr.  Publico  Executio  over  his  red  trail;  the  fine 
pacers  of  Dr.  Bombasto  Profundo  seem  to  bear  down  upon 
me  so  rapidly  that  I  am  frightened  from  my  sleep  in  great 
drops  of  sweat;  the  rustler  is  galloping  about  here,  there, 
everywhere,  looking  for  a  breach  in  my  corral,  branding 
every  stray  calf,  and  now  and  then  an  old  cow  even  which 
I  had  corraled  for  years;  Peter  the  Pig  I  imagine  grunt 
ing  in  my  ears,  yet  so  inaudibly  that  it  seems  to  caution 
his  female  worshipers,  'silence  is  golden/  and  to  convince 
mankind  that  silence  is  wisdom,  for  it  is  astonishing  how 
many  swallowed  Peter's  potions.  It  is  humiliating  to 
acknowledge  such  affairs,  but  the  conditions  are  too  real 
to  allow  my  conscience  and  my  remaining  professional  re 
spect  to  move  back  into  the  whirlpool  created  of  compe 
tition." 

The  winter  season  following  finds  Dr.  Samuel  Sawbones 
and  several  family  branches  of  the  Moosehide  Indians  out 
fitting  for  a  migration  for  the  north  country.  It  was  in 
the  order  of  a  permanent  move  and  grubbed  and  clothed 
accordingly.  No  trouble  will  exist  as  to  grub  staking  in 
the  future  with  fresh  meat  and  fish,  but  flour,  sugar,  tea, 
etc.,  will  be  a  matter  of  self-denial.  And  yet  Dr.  Saw 
bones,  hardy  as  he  is,  surviving  these  luxuries,  necessaries, 
has  other  considerations  to  weigh.  The  Indians,  as  are  all 
Indians,  north  or  south,  have  a  given  amount  of  treachery 
in  their  bones.  They  need  and  they  respect  a  chief.  So 


SAMUEL  SAWBONES,  M.  D. 

long  as  Dr.  Samuel  Sawbones  can  pose  as  a  chief,  so  long 
will  be  hold  his  followers  and  prosper,  but  when  adver 
sity,  misfortune,  or  accident  comes  he  will  be  set  down  and 
out,  and  that  is  the  end.  The  trip  he  proposes  cannot  be 
accomplished  without  many  hardships,  accidents,  and  fail 
ures,  therefore  his  chances  of  survival  amount  to  as  many 
as  we  allow  for  the  return  of  Andree  and  his  balloon. 
Yet  my  persuasion  reaches  not  any  fiber  of  his  obstinate 
heart.  I  tell  him  he  simply  means  to  commit  suicide,  but 
he  indignantly  refutes  the  suggestion  and  abuses  me  for 
want  of  faith.  His  old  sweetheart  kneels  before  him,  but 
he  pities  her  and  tells  her  that  weaklings  of  her  caste 
must  not  advise  nor  applaud  great  works,  neither  must 
they  bear  any  of  the  burdens.  Then  comes  the  -finale.  It 
is  a  barbarous  procession,  but  comic  enough  to  allow  us  to 
witness  and  not  weep.  "Farewell!  Fare  thee  well,  old 
veteran  I"  We  stand  fast  for  many  minutes  and  view  the 
long  black  string  braided  upon  the  snow  overlaying  the 
gulch  gliding  off  into  the  top  of  the  range,  following  the 
blazoned  trail  to  the  beyond. 

Adieu,  my  boy!  Peace  will  go  with  thee,  and  pros 
perity  we  will  not  invoke,  for  it  is  only  a  dream  to  hope. 

Not  far  off  the  trail  as  it  led  out  from  camp,  from 
home,  was  an  immobile  figure.  It  was  quite  irresponsive 
and  I  fear  only  tears  welled  out,  no  sentiment.  I  avoided 
her  and  wended  my  way  home,  more  lonely,  more  for 
saken  than  was  ever  before  my  lot. 


THE  END. 


Dt 


H.  C.  Holmes 


